John & Delenn: Between Two Wives and a Hard Place
by NWHS
Summary: A What If story in which Anna Sheridan wasn't taken by the Shadows and used as their pawn, but went missing all the same. What happens when she returns and John has moved on with Delenn? What will John do with two Mrs. Sheridans?
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Delenn of Mir and John Sheridan**

**Author: NWHS**

**Between Two Wives and a Hard Place**

**Prologue**

"_This is the pilot of the Icarus, we are friendly, not hostiles. I repeat, we are friendly not hostiles. Don't fire on our ship."_

"_You've got quite a brother there, Liz. I can't tell you how lucky I feel sometimes, even when he's not here. I just . . . Someone said that love knows no borders...and ours certainly proves the point."_

"_We are scientists from Earthforce. We come in peace; please stop firing on our ship. We come in peace; we mean you no harm. We have nothing of value on this ship other than research equipment. I beg you, please don't kill us."_

"_Come on, Anna, we have to get to the life pods, the Icarus can't stand much more of this barrage. They'll blow us up sooner than listen to Dr. Chang."_

"_I, Anna Jane Peters, take you, John James Sheridan, to be my lawfully wedded husband, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my love from this day forward. In the presence of God, our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live."_

"_Morden, I have to contact John. He'll know what to do."_

"_There's nothing anyone can do for us now. If we don't get the hell out of here, there won't be anything left of you for your husband to recognize. Now, get in the life pod before this thing explodes."_

"_But I have to—''_

"_No, Anna, now, he'll find you. Just go. Go!"_

"_I John James Sheridan, take you Anna Jane Peters to be my wife, my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live."_

"_Life support at fifty percent."_

"_Life support at forty percent."_

"_Life support at thirty percent."_

"_Life support at twenty percent."_

"_Life support critical. Recommend rerouting energy from engines."_

"_Life support at five percent."_

"_Oxygen level depleted. Repeat, oxygen level depleted."_

"I can't breathe, can't breathe," she said, voice low, the scream caught in constricted lungs, bed linens thrown aside in a dream induced panic.

"Calm down, Melissa, it's just another dream. I got you, sweetheart; I got you, calm down."

She took huge gulps of air, red hair spread across white pillows like a Phoenix reborn, wide eyes blinking into the darkness. Finally, she forced herself to settle, the warm familiarity of her bedroom and the arm around her comforting, solid.

Strong images of a tall man with a radiant smile swam in her head. For so long the images were blurry, voices static, indecipherable. But not tonight. Tonight she was shown the truth. After all this time, she knew the truth. Who she was and where she belonged.

Turning to the worried man beside her, she pushed her hair out of her eyes, and gave a smile she didn't feel, knowing her next words, her revelation, couldn't be undone or ignored.

"Not Melissa, Daniel, but Anna. I'm Anna Jane Peters, wife of John James Sheridan. We married on December 4, 2249."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Chapter 2: Happiness Interrupted

**Chapter 1: Happiness Interrupted**

**Part 1**

Humans were complex beings, Delenn mused as she walked into John's bedroom, the smile on her face a permanent fixture. She'd spent the last two months researching their wedding customs only to find they were as numerous and varied as the people themselves. Minbar may claim three distinct castes and their rituals were legion in number, but when it came to the ritual of marriage, all Minbari agreed that one ritual would suffice for them all. Of course, there were slight distinctions in length of ceremony, food preparation, dress, and music, but in all, little separated one caste from the other.

Yet, Human ceremonies varied based on religious beliefs, social traditions, legal mandates, geography, political ideology, and a host of other conditions that made researching something seemingly simple, a test of Minbari patience. In spite of it all, the ceremony that John, Susan, Michael, and Stephen pulled together was beautiful in its simple elegance.

Delenn knew she would always treasure the memories of the day, John so handsome in his Earthforce dress blues, the dimple in his cheek hypnotic, his smile devilish.

Delenn opened John's closet door, taking in the half row of Minbari robes. She'd asked Lennier to take care of moving some of her personal items from her quarters to John's. And he had done so with his normal efficiency, though the happiness to serve she become so accustomed to seeing in his eyes was disturbingly missing. It had been going on for months now, Delenn too occupied with the Shadows and her upcoming nuptials to broach the subject with him. Now, however, she would make the time, Lennier's well being and happiness too important to ignore.

"I like the way that looks." His voice preceded his arms, which found her waist, pulling her into his secure embrace.

"The way what looks?" she asked, leaning her head to the side, his tantalizing lips finding her sensitive neck.

"Your robes in my closet. A woman's clothing in a man's home means she's there to stay; you're mine now, Mrs. Sheridan." He snuggled in closer, pressing his lips then his tongue to her neck, her ear.

Minbari didn't use such titles of possessions when they mated. She understood the Human custom of the female acquiring the last name of the male upon marriage. However, such a custom was not universally accepted and many Earth women, historically and contemporarily, shunned such ancient practices as sexist. In spite of this, Delenn couldn't help like the way it sounded on his lips or the way it made her feel. She was _his_ as much as he was hers, or as much as any two people can claim another.

"Seeing your robes neatly hanging alongside my uniforms put thoughts in my mind."

"What kind of thoughts?" she asked, turning in his arms, her eyes and lips smiling up at him, her happiness undeniable.

"Naughty thoughts, my sweet Delenn. The kind of thoughts that have plagued my mind since the Shan'Fal; the kind of thoughts that make me wish the robe you're wearing now was hanging in the closet with the others, or better yet, on the floor beside my own."

She felt heat rush to her cheeks, the intent of his words clear, the lips descending upon her own even clearer.

Per Minbari custom, she and John had abstained from sexual activity. Well, they hadn't exactly abstained from sexual activity, rather sexual intercourse, everything short of that was negotiable and thoroughly given and received.

He wrapped her in his long arms, the strength of him and his demanding kiss, unbearably sensual. She accepted his fierce probing, returning the power of his kiss full measure, her hands finding his hips and holding on with shaky desire.

"God, I love you, Delenn," he said between kisses. "I've wanted you to be my wife for so long. I didn't think we would live long enough to see this day. But we made it and I'll never let anything or anyone come between us. Not this war with the Shadows, not your clan, or our own cultural differences, nothing at all, Delenn, I promise you."

She wanted to tell him he shouldn't make such promises, that words have meaning and only absolutes should ever be spoken, promised. The universe controlled too much for such promises to be made, or accepted as truth. But Humans . . . John didn't understand and, for him, if he said it then it was so. But Minbari knew otherwise, yet, the promise warmed her, his words of devotion a pleasant balm on a fragile heart.

"I love you as well, John," she answered, allowing him to settle them both on his bed.

He grasped her hand with the diamond wedding ring he'd given her no more than three hours ago, and to her surprise, repeated his vow.

"I, John Sheridan, take you, Delenn of Mir of the Tenth Fane of Elleya, to be my wife, to share the good times and hard times side by side. I humbly give you my hand and my heart as I pledge my faith and love to you. Just as this ring I give you today is a circle without end, my love for you is eternal. Just as it is made of incorruptible substance, my commitment to you will never fail. With this ring, I thee wed."

Delenn felt tears fall, the warmth of them nothing in comparison to the radiance of the love in her husband's eyes shining back at her. She'd never seen him this happy and it pleased her that she was the cause. But she had to admit that she'd never been this blissful either, the depth of her love for this man, this Human, wonderful and frightening.

"Be mine," he whispered, leaning her onto the bed, his body settling perfectly over top of her own, her arms and legs opening, welcoming him home.

They started kissing again, slow, gentle movements, ones that said they had all the time in the world, there was no rush so why not relax and enjoy the ride. They'd been here before, Delenn reflected, this bed no stranger to her or hers to him. But not like this, never like this. Stolen, frenzied moments between overbooked schedules and the bells of war was all they had, all they could afford. But this day was theirs, and theirs alone, Delenn content, finally at peace.

John found every clasp on her robe and she every button of his shirt. Both were discarded; John quickly reclaimed her mouth, his hands wandering over goose flesh. She wanted him but a nagging voice that sounded too much like her conscious said, _Not yet. The ritual then pleasure, the mating ceremony must be concluded first. You cannot claim him until it is done._

His right hand traced maddening circles up and down her thigh, each rotation moving closer to her pulsing center. John's mouth slid from her neck to her breast, taking in almost the whole of her, the nagging voice a mere whisper against the tide of desire screaming to be unleashed.

His hand reached her center, thumb smoothing over her silk panties, his satisfied smile lighting the room when she whimpered and moaned, arching into his practiced touch, the Shan'Fal providing a map to her centers of pleasure. And Valen help her, he'd mastered them all before the night was over, taking extreme pleasure, whenever they could hide from their duties, in showing her how thoroughly he could undo her with his hands, his mouth, tempting her to go further than she should, the way he was now.

_You must stop him._

"John, please," she moaned, twisting on the bed, his mouth following the path of his fingers, her own slim digits digging into the soft flesh of his shoulders.

_Stop him, Delenn, before he goes too far._

She felt his teeth sink into her molten hot skin, his tongue tracing the outline of her panties, and she revolted against the scream that would send her mind into oblivion, her body into cardiac arrest.

"We can't. John, please, we can't do this now." Her voice was unsteady as unsteady as her trembling legs, but she'd found her voice, her resolve, and John was listening.

He'd stopped, pulled himself to her side, his face looming over top of hers, his breath coming in short, heavy gulps.

"We've done this before, honey, why stop me now."

It was times like this in which the differences in their race was most obvious. In general, Humans gave into their emotions, thinking little about consequences, yet, Minbari did nothing but think about consequences, controlling one's emotions a sign of maturity, understanding of the universe and their role within the indefinable cosmos.

She scooted up and slightly away from him. "We must first complete the last mating ritual before we can fully consummate our union."

John closed the small distance she had forged between them, his lascivious eyes raking over her body, sending shivers of heat through her. He leaned on his elbow, bringing them face to face and kissed her, his tongue parting her lips, exploring every molehill and footpath before releasing her. Delenn was sure if he kissed her like that one more time, her soul would be lost, for she would willingly succumb to her more carnal side, the one that urged her to cast her religious beliefs aside and accept the calling of her body.

"I know we can't go all the way, but we can have some fun before we start the last ritual." His eyes twinkled with mischief and she knew he was remembering the many nights they'd spent pleasuring each other, blurring the lines between acceptable and unacceptable sexual exploration, as defined by the Religious Caste, who didn't have a word in their language for oral sex, and as such, it wasn't explicitly forbidden. John being the one to figure out the loophole, of course.

"We have to be purified for the last ritual and we won't be if we . . . do that," she finished shyly.

"We can take a shower afterwards, honey," John argued, leaning in for another kiss.

She placed a stern hand on his shoulder, denying the overture. "We have to be pure in every sense, John, not just bodily. If we indulge our craving beforehand, we won't be able to respectfully focus on the ritual. The slaking of our desires will take precedent."

John gave a low growl of annoyed acceptance and Delenn smiled, giving him a chaste kiss to the cheek before pulling her tunic down and leaving the bed.

"After tonight," he yelled after her as she bounded out of the bedroom, "you'll have no more excuses. And," he said, coming to the door and watching her, "I expect full reparations."

"Reparations?"

"Reparations, back pay, whatever you want to call it, I aim to collect, and I mean big, lady."

"After tonight," she said, looking for a box of ritual candles she'd packed, hoping Lennier hadn't forgotten to bring them, "I won't have a reason to give an excuse that is as hard for me to say as it is for you to hear."

John rebuttoned and zipped his pants and took on a more serious tone. "Is there something I can do to help you prepare for the ritual, honey?"

"Ah, here they are," she said, opening a small box that was hidden behind a picture of John's family. She always enjoyed looking at this particular picture, the young John Sheridan with his parents and sister the day he entered the Academy, the intimidated, naïve smile not so different from the one she wore her first day as acolyte to Dukhat and the Grey Council.

"What? Oh, yes, you can take a shower and put on the ritual robe I had made for you. And no, John," she said as his mouth opened, "we cannot take a shower together. We must take them separately in preparation for the ritual and ultimate joining to come."

He closed his mouth and shot her a look that was more humorous than scathing.

"Oh, you're gonna owe me big time."

She laughed, the sound quickly followed by two beeps from the Babcom unit.

She left John to handle the incoming call, her mind too focused on the ritual to care who was disturbing their wedding night.

**Part 2**

John cursed under his breath as he made his way into the bedroom, shrugging into his shirt before he answered the intrusive call. He'd told Ivanova he wanted no interruptions this evening. Short of the Shadows coming knocking on their door, no one was to disturb him . . . them.

The unit beeped two more times, not fazed by the string of obscenities being leveled against it.

"This better be good, Susan, or come tomorrow, I'll be putting in for a new second-in-command."

It was just a joke, but the grim look she gave him said she'd either missed the punch line or the Shadows had truly come calling.

"What's wrong?" he asked, an unease flooding him. He'd felt it a few hours ago, right before the wedding, but he chocked it up to nerves. Now, he wasn't so sure. Susan was almost pale, her face stoic, the vein between her eyes bulging.

"We have a person here, Captain, who's requesting to speak with you."

"Can't you or Michael handle it? I'm kinda busy at the moment. You know, newly married stuff."

"Yes, I know, John, but she will only speak with you and I think . . . well, I think this is one visitor you'll like to handle personally."

"Well, who the hell is it, Susan, the pope, or someone else who thinks they're more important than my wedding night?"

She cleared her throat and gave an indelicate tug of her uniform collar.

"It's your wife, sir."

"What about Delenn?"

Another round of throat clearing ensued and John was ready to leap through the screen and shake Susan until she told him what in the hell was wrong with her.

"Not that wife, but your other wife."

"What? Who?"

"Anna Sheridan, sir. Someone claiming to be Anna Sheridan just arrived at docking bay ten and she has requested to see you."

"Is this some kind of joke because it damn sure isn't funny?"

"Of course not, Captain, I asked the guards on duty the same thing, but none of our crew would be so cruel or stupid. Anyway, I escorted her to your office, spoke with her a bit on the way and . . well . . . she seems to believe everything she is saying. I've seen pictures of your first wife, and I must tell you, John, she looks just like the woman in those photos."

Anger and confusion was the only thing holding John up, Susan's words doing a hell of a number on his skull, his heart.

"You're the only one who can verify her as the real deal, and if she isn't, I'll kick her deceitful ass from here back to Proxima 3."

"Keep her there, Susan, I'm on my way."

"Yes, sir. What about Delenn?" he heard her ask before he ended the call.

_What about Delenn?_

Good damn question. One of many whirling around his head, John thought, slumping to the bed before the floor caught him. This couldn't be real he told himself as he finished dressing. Things like this just didn't happen, a wife who went missing and presumed dead didn't just show up five years later on the day of her husband's marriage to another woman. The Fates couldn't be that cruel, could they?

John slid the door open and walked into the main living area, Delenn busily preparing the room for their ritual, oblivious to his presence, her happiness transparent and brutally crushing.

"Delenn," he said, bringing her attention to him, "there is an emergency; I have to leave for a bit. I'll be back as soon as possible."

In typical Delenn fashion, her concern was for him and not the ritual he was spoiling.

"Is there anything I can do, John? I can get dressed and come with you or is it a matter for the Rangers? I will contact Marcus."

He shook his head, the headache he felt since taking the call from Susan growing in intensity. "No, honey, it's nothing like that. This is one emergency I must handle on my own."

God this felt too much like lying. But he couldn't tell her the truth. Hell, he didn't even know what the truth was. The last thing he wanted to do was get Delenn all upset over what was likely an imposter. She didn't deserve her wedding day to be marred by some lunatic who'd gotten hold of some old news about his search for Anna and decided to play out some psychotic game. No, he would handle this and be back in time to claim his husbandly prize.

John opened his arms and Delenn quickly filled them, her knowing eyes telling him she wasn't fooled by his nonchalant stance. She wasn't stupid, of course, only something of utmost importance would pull him from her on this special night. But she wouldn't push, he knew that as well.

He traced the line of her jaw with his finger, followed by a kiss he couldn't keep from turning desperate, clingy.

"Be here when I get back. Please don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

He left, forgetting to garner a promise from her. She never promised, hell, she didn't promise. Meaning, Delenn was just as likely to follow him to his office as she was to go back to her quarters for more personal items, possibly running into someone who overheard the imposter claiming to be his long dead wife come back from the grave.

_Shit._

John boarded the lift, closed his eyes, seeing visions of a beautifully smiling Anna as he removed her white veil on their wedding day. For years, he dreamed he would someday find her alive and well. John hadn't had those dreams in a very long time, not since he admitted he was in love with the ambassador from Minbar. And now what? What if the woman in his office wasn't a charlatan or a psychopath on the loose from the nearest funny farm, what would he do then?

John shrugged off the lunacy that was slowing consuming him as he made his way off the lift and toward his office. He would set this woman straight, give her a one-way pass to fuck you bitch solar system, and get back to his real wife.

He rounded the corner and entered his office. A red haired woman turned to him, face beautiful and smiling, just as he'd remembered.

"Hello, John, it's been a long time."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. Chapter 3: The Fates

**Chapter 2: The Fates**

**Part 1**

The sweet, melodic voice reminded John of home. If his listened carefully he could make out the chirping of the black and yellow Western Meadowlark, waking him to another humid Kansas day. He could feel the cool wisps of water blowing from the Missouri River onto the toes of a young cadet out for a picnic with his best girl. Anna Sheridan was Earth; Anna Sheridan was Kansas; Anna Sheridan was alive and John could do nothing but stare, a dream wrapped in a nightmare.

He heard her say his name again but voice and motor functions eluded him. He felt a sharp pain in his ribs and the part of his brain that was still functioning told him Ivanova had bowed him in the side with her damnable bony elbows. Seconds, perhaps minutes later, another voice was heard. He knew that voice as well and the fingers that were snapping in front of his face.

"Captain, it's me, Stephen, you asked me to meet you in your office. John, can you hear me?"

A few more snaps followed by an even harder poke to his ribs, drew him slowly from his daze. John ran a hand through his hair, blinking his eyes, trying to refocus his thoughts, chase down his sanity.

He sucked in three deep breaths and nodded at Dr. Franklin, letting him know he was as well as any man could be in this situation.

"Thanks for coming, Stephen. As I mentioned, I would like for you to examine . . ." He paused, not knowing what to call the woman who stood in his office. Was she indeed his wife, or some woman who had a very good plastic surgeon?

"Anna," the woman said in the silence. "Anna Sheridan. It's me, John, your wife. I know this is a lot to absorb, but if you give me a few minutes I'll explain everything to you."

Damned if she didn't sound like her. He hadn't her voice in so long, since the last message she'd sent him. But he knew, he could never forget.

"Well . . . umm . . . I would feel a lot better if you would allow, Dr. Franklin here, to examine you."

For a minute, he thought she would object, her eyes registering discomfort at the idea of having a stranger probe her. Then she relaxed, a conciliatory smile gracing her lovely features. And damn if she didn't have Anna's smile as well.

"The exam isn't the least bit invasive," Dr. Franklin said, moving to stand near the woman, extending his hand in introduction. "I simply need to take a few drops of blood to compare against the DNA registered with Earthforce. I have the results of the last physical Anna Sheridan submitted to before her expedition aboard the _Icarus_."

"Of course, I remember that physical. We all had to get a clean bill of health or Earthforce's New Technologies division wouldn't give us a green light to the mission."

"So, ah," John started, pulling Ivanova with him, "we'll give you guys your privacy. We'll be right outside if you need us."

Ivanova in tow, he slipped out of his office, the urge to lean over, rest his hands on his knees, and take heavy gulps of the station's stale recycled air, strong and embarrassingly tempting.

"Well, you handled that better than I thought. I bet Garibaldi you would pass out or spill your wedding cake all over your shiny office floor."

John visualized bringing his hands to Susan's throat, squeezing until her mocking tongue fell out or her tactless head popped off. Either way, she'd suffer, much the way he was now. And he didn't even want to know what Michael thought would happen.

"You're a true friend, Susan, your concern hits me right here," he said, pointing a finger to his chest, denoting his heart.

She shrugged. "It's better to laugh than cry."

Mirroring Ivanova, he leaned against the wall. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, contemplating the shitty situation be now found himself.

"So, if it turns out to be her, what are you going to do? I mean, hell, you'll have two wives on the same station no less. And you don't strike me, John, as the type to take up Mormonism. Besides, I'm pretty sure Minbari don't practice or condone bigamy."

"Jesus, Susan, do you have to put it like that? I'm no bigamist," he said through gritted teeth, trying desperately to keep his voice to a conversational tone.

But she had a point about Minbari. Delenn would view it as such and there was no way in hell a member of the Religious Caste would ever accept such a predicament, even under the strangest and unintentional of circumstances. But the results weren't back yet, he told himself, jumping to wild conclusions not the best use of his time.

"Do me a favor, Susan," he said, ignoring the wary look that followed. "Check on Delenn for me."

"Why me? Why not Garibaldi?"

"If Michael goes, she'll think I'm hurt or something equally awful. With you, she won't immediately jump to that conclusion."

"And what in the hell do you want me to say once I'm with her? Ah, sorry for the intrusion, ambassador, but your new husband is being detained by his resurrected wife. Congrats on the nuptials and the best of luck with the threesome."

"Do you have to be such a wise ass at a time like this, Susan? I really need your help."

"Look, John," she said, rubbing a hand over her neck, taking her own deep breath, "I'm sure Delenn already knows something is up. I mean it is your wedding night and you're spending it elsewhere. If I go to her now, it won't matter what I say, she'll know something serious is amiss. Short of lying to her, which I have no intention of doing, I don't really see the point of opening up that can of worms until it's absolutely necessary."

"You're right, of course, you're right. I just . . . just hate the thought of her waiting alone for me in my quarters. I told her I'd be right back and forty-five minutes have already passed. I thought Stephen said the exam wouldn't take that long."

"I did and it didn't."

The voice came from behind him, John and Susan turning to see Dr. Franklin, his eyes hooded.

"Well, doc, what's the diagnosis?" If his heart could beat any faster, John didn't want to know, for it thrummed against his chest like a fire victim searching for an exit from a burning building, fighting to get out, running away from the blaze.

"You understand, John, that these are only preliminary findings. I would like to run a more thorough examination in Medlab and—''

"Stop beating around the bush, Stephen, and tell me what you think."

Dr. Franklin shifted and looked down at his clear medical file, a frown forming. He looked up and John knew the results before he opened his mouth.

"Blood, dental, and skeletal records on file for, one Anna Sheridan, matches the profile of the woman in your office. Like I said, I'll perform a more detailed exam but . . . well . . ."

Dr. Franklin shook his head, giving John an apologetic look. He knew what the doctor was thinking, the same as Susan, and everyone else on the station once news got around, some of whom attended his wedding reception. Was that only four hours ago? Right now, it felt like a million.

"Thanks, Stephen," he said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. He could always count on the man in a crunch and to keep a secret.

"Well, let me know if there is anything else I can do for you. That includes Delenn as well."

John gave a slight nod, acknowledging his kind offer, and the doctor took his leave, Susan looking pensive.

"Now what?" she asked.

_Good question._

"I'm going to handle the situation in my office. I need you to secure a room for Anna, but log her in as Anna Peters, not Anna Sheridan. If there's a way to keep a lid on this and prevent Delenn from being embarrassed or worse, dishonored, I'll do it."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Anything else, sir?"

He wanted her or Garibaldi to check on Delenn, but Susan was right. Delenn could sift out a cover up in a blackened galaxy with only her intelligence and faith to light her way. No, it would simply have to wait."

"No, that'll be all, Susan. Let me know the arrangements once they've been made and then have one of Michael's men escort her to her quarters."

"Yes, sir."

She opened her mouth to speak but he waved the comment away.

"I'll be fine, Susan, just take care of those arrangements."

He turned before she did, making his way back into his office, toward his past.

**Part 2**

She was sitting on the sofa, her red hair much longer than he'd remembered, reaching well past her shoulders, almost to the swell of her back. She gave him another one of her smiles, the kind that drew him to her so many years ago— cute and innocent with a hint of naughtiness. And he knew, without any additional testing. This was Anna, his Anna.

She stood then and cautiously approached.

"I assume Dr. Franklin gave me two thumbs up."

"Yes, he confirmed your identity."

"What about you, Johnny, do you think it's me?"

His heart flexed at the use of his nickname on her lips, and the hands in his pocket seemed to sweat that much more.

"I thought you were dead," he said, hearing the words come out shaky, quiet. "I searched everywhere for you. Earthforce found the _Icarus_ floating in dead space, a lifeless, deserted heap of metal."

"We were attacked. I don't know by what, but the ship was unresponsive to our call for peace."

"Where have you been all this time, Anna? Why didn't you try to contact me before now?"

"I know you have a lot of questions and I don't blame you."

"Of course I have questions. I have a hell of a lot of questions, starting with where you've been for the last five years."

She sighed, turning away from him. She made her way back to the sofa and retook her seat. Anna patted the space beside her.

"Sit, Johnny, and I'll tell you all that I know."

Hesitantly, John moved to the sofa, claiming a spot, but one that wasn't so close to Anna, definitely not the cushion directly next to her.

"Okay, I see you haven't changed that much, still a hardcore military man who view the world in terms of black and white."

That was true of him at one time, John thought, but not anymore, not since becoming Captain of Babylon 5, not since meeting Delenn.

"Like I said, our ship was attacked. We had no choice but to abandon ship. Morden and I made it to two life pods. I didn't know if the attacking ship would come after us once they saw the pods, but they seemed content to destroy the _Icarus_. We were only a few days out from Earth, nowhere near Z'Ha'Dum, our destination."

He knew they hadn't made it that far, the search and recovery team having found charred but still usable ship records.

"I floated for hours, maybe days. I really don't know. The air supply ran out and I must've passed out at one point. That part is still fuzzy. What I do remember is waking up in a hospital."

"A hospital? Where?"

"Proxima 3."

"Proxima 3? You mean to tell me you've been on an Earth colony all this time and you didn't contact me."

"It's not that simple, John."

"Well, it seems pretty simple to me."

He shifted positions, twisting so he was facing her fully, his left arm coming up to rest on the back of the sofa.

"When I came to, I couldn't remember a thing."

"What do you mean, you couldn't remember?"

"Exactly that, I don't know if it was a result of oxygen deprivation or something else, but I had no memory. I was told a cargo ship making its way to the planet to pick up a load of Quantium-40 spotted the pod and brought it onboard. They discovered me unconscious and called for help, and that's how I wound up in the hospital. I would've died if the crew didn't have a bit of scavenger in them."

"I can't believe this. Wait, wait, how is it that you know who you are now?"

The story sounded farfetched, but what reason would she have to lie? They weren't having marital problems, sure, they put their careers ahead of family, but they were young and ambitious, figuring time was on their side.

"I stayed in the hospital for months, the doctors trying to figure out what was causing the memory loss. I was healthy except for the fact I had no idea who I was. Eventually, they released me into the care of a psychiatrist. He helped me adjust to life on Proxima."

John raised a hand, stalling her.

"Those doctors could've done the same thing Stephen did. They need only scan your fingerprints or take your blood and run it through Earthforce's medical database. You could've been home within the month. Why in the hell didn't they do that; it's basic protocol for a Jane or John Doe?"

"I have no explanation. I didn't even know that was an option."

This story was getting weirder by the second. Come tomorrow, he would put Garibaldi on the case. If anything was to be found, Michael would ferret it out.

"So what happened, Anna?"

She looked tired, he observed, the flight from Proxima to the station probably wearing on her. And here he was making her recount the last five years of her life like she was a suspect and he an interrogator. But he needed answers and he would get them, for there was no way in hell he was returning to his quarters and Delenn without them.

"I had no choice so I made a life for me there. I discovered I had a talent for math and science. Dr. Daniel Montgomery, my psychiatrist, helped me obtain a teaching certificate and I've been teaching fifth grade science for the last three and a half years."

John could actually see her as a teacher. She had the right temperament and that "talent for math and science" came with a hard-earned Ph.D.

"Ever since that first day, I woke up, I've been plagued by dreams. They didn't come every night, but they were frequent, confusing."

"How so?"

"Daniel said the dreams were probably my memories trying to force their way to my consciousness, but a mental barrier held them at bay."

"What kind of mental barrier?"

"I don't know, John, but they were never clear, the images nor the words. That is until a few weeks ago."

"So what happened a few weeks ago to bring your memories back?"

She bit her lower lip, a nervous habit he once found adorable, now it was just something else that was dragging this story out.

"I saw you on the Interstellar Network News."

He was on ISN a lot, much of it unauthorized. What could she have possibly seen that would undue five years of memory loss?

"Alison Higgins reported on the upcoming marriage between Captain John Sheridan and Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari Federation. Later that night, I had one of my dreams."

"Don't tell me," he said, wiping a palm over his eyes, "the once murky dreams were now crystal clear."

"I dreamed of our marriage," she admitted.

"Aw hell," he said, his migraine doing a number on his cranium. He sank into the soft cushions of his sofa.

She scooted closer, taking one of his hands in hers.

"I thought you had a right to know. I thought . . . you would be happy to see me."

A well delivered knife to his heart. He raised his eyes to her light hazel ones, the ones he loved to gaze into, the ones that used to sparkle only for him.

"I am happy to see you, Anna. It's a surprise, that's all. I don't understand much of what you told me tonight, but to know you didn't perish in the cold, darkness of space and have been living well, is truly a relief."

She raised the hand she was holding to her lips, placing a warm kiss on his palm, and he was torn between withdrawing it and giving in to the old familiarity.

"I know these last five years could not have been easy for you, thinking I was dead, unable to find any evidence to the contrary."

"No it wasn't, but I made it through. With the help of family and friends, I made out okay."

It was an oversimplification, but he wasn't going to go down that pity road.

She still held his hand, the warmth of it powerfully tender. But the more she did so, and the longer he peered into those enchanting eyes, the more his mind revolted against the unbidden feelings she was stirring in him.

Finally she released his hand, and the apparent spell she'd cast over him. As the delightfully rosy scent of her caught his nose, and the tingle of her hand on his skin remained, a surge of guilt ran through John. For the merest of moments, he'd forgotten about Delenn, the woman he'd committed himself to less than five hours ago.

And to prove the Fates were plotting against him, Anna said, "I was hoping to get here before you married the Minbari. ISN reported the service wouldn't take place for another month. I guess they were wrong."

John didn't like the way she said "the Minbari."

"Her name is Delenn and we were wed earlier today," he said, suddenly defensive, protective.

"Yes, I know, but is it legal?"

John started to say, "Hell, yes, it's legal," but he stopped himself, the question causing him to think.

"I performed a bit of research before I came here and discovered I was never officially declared dead. So, technically, we're still married. However, Earth has no laws against a man taking more than one wife if all parties involved consent to the arrangement."

John understood the unstated implication. Since he didn't know she was alive in order to get her consent, she didn't give it, therefore, his marriage to Delenn was null and void. He didn't know family law well enough to know if her interpretation was correct, something else to put Garibaldi on. Hell, he didn't care what the law said, Delenn was his wife, and Anna, well, shit, he didn't know what to do about her.

"So, you came to stop my wedding?"

"I came so you would know the truth. I came to see if there was anything left between us before we completely moved on. If there are any lingering feelings between us, I think it only makes sense to explore them before committing ourselves to someone else. It wouldn't be fair to us and them."

"I've already committed myself to Delenn," he said standing, a twinge of irritation in his voice.

"Yes, well, she may feel differently once she has all the facts."

She stood as well, her too knowing eyes boring into him.

"Besides, I remember us having a good marriage, John, full of love and laughter, or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten, Anna, but that was a long time ago."

She closed the distance between them, her hands moving to his shoulders, her smile hypnotic, deliberately tempting.

"So long ago, John, that there's nothing left of us, of me, in your heart."

Anna leaned in closer, lifted her chin, and made to kiss him. Her breath was warm, inviting, memories of kissing her under the large cottonwood tree on the Sheridan farm flooded his mind, reminding him of home. And it would be so easy to give in, to go back, to claim his own recurring dream of a wife's return.

He stepped away, straightened his jacket, feeling like the biggest loser for letting her get to him like that. Delenn would never forgive him if he betrayed her trust, even with a woman who may still be his wife. Hell, he wouldn't forgive himself. As it was, he'd spent the good portion of his wedding night with another woman.

He had to get home, back to Delenn before she learned the truth from some well meaning or not so well meaning busy body.

"I'll call for your escort. Ivanova's taken care of your accommodations. She'll see to whatever you may need."

"I was hoping—''

He shook his head; regaining the resolve he lost the moment he entered his office.

"I have to go, Anna, we'll talk again tomorrow."

**Part 3**

John hustled back to his quarters, ignoring the strange looks he received as he damn near ran the length of the corridor.

He anxiously entered his abode, the lights set to dim. He'd expected the usual red, green, and blue candles that marked every mating ritual, along with jasmine incents and bright triangular pillows. None of the usual stuff was present, the living and dining areas immaculate, but with only his things.

A cold fear started to form around his heart, his mind, but then he saw it, a sliver of light coming from his bedroom. He entered cautiously and saw her. Delenn knelt on a mat, three white candles in front of her, the light shimmering off her closed, relaxed features.

_She's still here. Thank you, God._

John stood back observing her. White candles were never a good sign; none of the pleasant rituals she'd shared with him included white candles. No, white candles meant she was trying to purify her mind, purge them of unpleasant thoughts. And she no longer wore the sexy blue tunic, the mating ritual robe, or one of her nightgowns. Instead, she was clad in one of her ambassadorial robes. The fear returned.

"I'm pleased you made it back safely," she said, her tone flat, lifeless.

Delenn rose, her face revealing nothing.

She walked pass him and into the living room. John swiftly followed, not liking the less than loving welcome.

"What's wrong, Delenn? I didn't mean to take so long. It was unavoidable. It's not too late, we can still move ahead with the ritual."

He felt the need to plead boil inside of him. If he could find those three Fates, he would chop them up and make flarn out of them.

"I think it best if I return to my quarters."

"What? Why?"

He knew why. Somehow, she knew. Hell, Delenn was barely looking at him, her eyes, normally so alive with passion, were dead, emotionless.

"Under the circumstances, it would be inappropriate for me to share your quarters . . . your bed," she said, the last words a dejected whisper in the nonexistent wind.

"Who told you?"

"It doesn't matter. Knowing is all that matters, John."

"Well, it matters to me. Whoever it was had no right. It was my place to tell you not . . . Lennier's," he finished, fishing.

She said nothing.

_So, it was Lennier, that underhanded, jealous aid of hers. He probably couldn't wait to run to her with the damning news, as if Delenn would ever seek solace in his arms._

"I would like to explain," he said, closing the heavy distance between them, the physical one that is.

"It isn't necessary."

"Well, I think it is and I would like you to hear all the facts from me, and not some lousy second or third hand account."

"John, I'm tired and I would very much like to go to my quarters and put this day behind me. I only stayed because it would've been impolite to leave a note."

_Put this day behind me. __When did our wedding day become one she wished to forget? Oh yes, the minute she learned she wasn't the only Mrs. Sheridan, or not Mrs. Sheridan at all._

"We need to talk about this, Delenn."

She ignored him, making her way to the door. Once again, he followed, grabbing her by the waist, and pulling her back to his chest. She didn't resist; yet, her body was rigid, unyielding. John buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent-green clover and aloe-, using it to clear his mind of the other one.

"Please talk to me, honey, if not tonight, then tomorrow."

This time it was a plea. He didn't care; he couldn't allow her to leave like this. She had already shut down on him, closed him out. If he had any chance of salvaging their relationship, he had to do it now. There was only one way.

"Have breakfast with me tomorrow. That'll give us both time to rest and think. You can't simply walk out on me and not give me a chance to explain."

Still she said nothing, hell he couldn't even tell if she was breathing, her body cold to the touch. John hugged her tighter, needing to feel her close to him, hoping to wake her from her self-induced trance. Nothing.

"Please, Delenn, one meal and a heart-to-heart."

More silence and then she said, "I'll try to meet you for breakfast."

_Not good enough. _

"Promise me you'll be here for breakfast. Promise me, Delenn," John repeated with a gentle shake when she failed to respond.

"I promise, now release me, please."

Yeah, a not so nice command. How in the hell did she manage such a frightening tone without raising her voice? But it worked, he reluctantly let her go.

She smoothed out her robes, took the last two steps to the door, and in that same flat, dead tone said, "You smell of roses."

Delenn stepped out into the corridor, the door sliding silently behind her.

For John, there was only one thing he could say to that.

"I'm fucked!"

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	4. Chapter 4: Breakfast and a Mission

**Chapter 3: Breakfast and a Mission**

**Part 1**

Anna stood outside John's quarters, having used the station's directory to locate him. She paused, nerves causing her to question whether he would appreciate the unexpected visit. Besides, she wasn't even sure whether the Minbari was in there with him. Something told her she wasn't, not after last night, not after learning the truth about her return.

She'd studied a bit of Minbari culture before setting out for Babylon 5, and tried desperately to obtain specifics on her competition. While she managed to locate some interesting Minbari facts, very little was available about the Minbari ambassador prior to arriving on the space station. Anna thought that odd, then again, she reasoned, Minbari themselves were an unusual, secretive race of people. And how John, after the Earth-Minbari War, managed to find himself involved with one, was beyond the pale.

Anna thought back to their reunion in John's office. It didn't go the way she'd envisioned. She'd convinced herself that they would fall into each other's arms, tear streaked faces covering smiling, happy lips. Yet, there was no embrace, nor tears, or even a relieved smile from a mourning husband. In fact, John didn't even believe it was truly her who stood before him.

He'd always been a cautious man, growing up with a father as a diplomat and spending his entire adult life in the military tended to make a man such. Still, to be that way with her was surprisingly hurtful. And to add salt to a fresh wound, he barely softened when Dr. Franklin confirmed her identity.

Anna looked around, the corridor still quiet, apparently too early for the residents of the floor to start venturing out for the new day. She remembered John always liked to get an early start, and she didn't think in the five years they'd been apart, he'd changed that much.

Harnessing her courage, Anna rang the doorbell to his quarters. A brisk, "Come in," was heard, followed by the opening of his door.

She walked inside the brightly lit room and looked around. She'd never been on a space station, so her curiosity was used as an excuse to explore the dwellings, John nowhere to be found.

"Make yourself at home. I'm still dressing and will be out in a minute."

Anna smiled warmly at the array of breakfast items piled neatly and invitingly on the small high-rise table. Orange juice and a pot of tea rested on the counter along with a bowl of strawberries and crème, and a few other food selections she didn't have names for. Alien cuisine, she guessed.

The tension she'd felt when she left her quarters vanished like the cold under the glare of the sun. All wasn't lost then, she thought, viewing the breakfast John had so painstakingly prepared for them. He'd told her they would talk today. She guessed he meant much later in the day, but breakfast was even better. He was probably going to call and invite her over once he finished dressing. Oh well, she beat him to the punch.

Anna continued to peruse his quarters, sensing the man she'd married so very long ago in the choice of personal items he had on display. She found an old photo taken the first day he entered the Academy. So young and handsome, strong of will, stronger of heart.

His books of poetry were on the bookshelf, along with old Academy and Earthforce texts and manuals, a snow globe she'd never seen before and a host of other nit knacks. The more she surveyed his inner sanctum, the more she realized she was looking for something in particular. Something . . . anything from their life together, but there was nothing; not even a photo of her . . . of them.

It had been five years; Anna had to remind herself. She couldn't expect him to mourn her for that length of time. Still, there was something between them, a spark. She'd felt it in his office the night before when she touched and kissed his hand, when she pressed her body against his, and the longing way he peered into her eyes. It wasn't her imagination; in spite of the way he pulled away, refusing her kiss. There was definitely a spark; one she hoped to ignite into a flame.

"I'm so glad you could make it. I know you promised but I thought you'd come up with some excuse to get out of it," John said, entering the living area, back turned, closing the bedroom door.

He turned and from his shocked expression, Anna knew she wasn't the guess he was expecting.

"Anna, what are you doing here?" he asked, glancing to the front door, his shocked expression turning nervous, agitated.

"I thought we could get a head start on that talk you wanted to have."

"Ah, yeah, our talk, I didn't mean this morning. I have a working breakfast."

"I see," she said, pointing to the kitchen. "I've never known you to be so handy in the kitchen, John."

"Yeah, well, I can manage a food order pretty well."

He looked flushed, glancing periodically to the front door and back at her. And it was then she realized the true nature of his 'working breakfast.' The smorgasbord wasn't for her after all, but the Minbari he called his wife.

"You seem a tad nervous, Johnny. Is there anything I can do?" she said, placing a hand on his forearm.

"No," he blurted, glancing at the door again. "I just think we need to have our discussion later and in a different place. I hate to rush you, Anna, but I'm really busy."

He placed a gentle hand around her arm, and guided her to the door. John was being very polite, but his intention was clear. He aimed to rid himself of her before his Minbari arrived. Well, Anna, wasn't going that easily. In fact, she thought she'd rather like to meet the woman who tried to take her place.

"John," she said, looking up at him, "maybe I should meet this Minbari of yours and we can get this all out in the open. I think it'll be better that way, so we can get past this awkward moment and move on."

He blanched at her words and shook his head with a level of vehemence she didn't think possible.

"There is no way in hell I'm introducing you to Delenn. And," he said, waving his index finger at her as if she was a child to be scolded, "I don't want you going anywhere near her. Do you hear me?"

Anna shoved his finger away. "I'm not one of the members of your command staff to be ordered around and lectured to, John. I'm your wife, and as such, have a right to meet—''

The doorbell chimed, cutting her off, swiftly followed by a few choice words by John. He glared down at her, swore a few more times, and then reluctantly opened the door. On the other side stood a Minbari, but not the one Anna nor John were expecting.

"Mr. Lennier," John said, "is something wrong? Where's Delenn."

The Minbari looked pass John and to her, his face impassive, but his eyes were dismissive, if not downright disapproving. The way he looked at her, or didn't look at her, made Anna feel uncomfortable, as if he could see into her soul, judging it and her lacking.

He gave a respectful bow of the head, and then turned his gaze back to John. "Ambassador Delenn asked me to send you her regrets. Unfortunately, she won't be able to meet you for breakfast. The Gaim ambassador requested an emergency meeting with her, one she couldn't deny."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" John asked but the Minbari made no attempt to answer.

Anna could tell John was making a heroic effort not to show his anger and level of disappointment. He clearly didn't want her to meet his Minbari, but the fact that she'd blown off their breakfast and sent her assistant, Anna guessed, to break the news seemed worse somehow.

"Mr. Lennier," John said as the man made to leave, "I suppose you were responsible for arranging this last minute meeting with the Gaim ambassador the same way you were the one to inform Delenn about Anna's arrival."

It wasn't a question and clearly the Minbari didn't take it as such, the temperature in the corridor nose diving by twenty degrees, the hostile chill between them obvious.

"I've pledged myself to the ambassador, come fire or storm or darkness or death. And I will protect her from all things."

The, 'including you,' was left unsaid, but it hung in the frigid air, both men nodding, acknowledging the other's stance. And this was the closest Anna's come to witnessing an old fashioned duel. She not so gently tugged John's arm, pulling him away from the door and into his quarters.

John was like a thruster ready to explode, his pacing and balled fists scaring her. And not for the first time since learning of his relationship with the Minbari, Anna wondered about the hold the woman had over him.

She was about to suggest they not let all that wonderful food go to waste when John suddenly stopped pacing and eyed her with an unreadable emotion.

"You may stay here and help yourself to breakfast if you haven't already eaten. I no longer have an appetite. I need to speak with my Head of Security so I can't stay."

"So, you're just going to leave me here. John, you're the only person on this station I know."

She moved closer to him, gauging his reaction to her nearness.

"I know my unexpected presence here has caused some difficulty for you. That wasn't my intent, but it also couldn't be helped. I was hoping after the initial shock of seeing me wore off that we could spend some time reacquainting ourselves with each other. We used to have so much in common, talking for hours on any subject. Do you remember all those nights we stayed up talking then making love?"

"Anna," he said, sounding terribly tired, "I can't do this with you now. I have missed you; please know that. But I can't just act like those five years didn't exist. I went to hell and back trying to find you and then had to fight to accept your death. It wasn't easy; in fact, I will humbly admit it was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do in my life."

"I'm sorry." She reached for him, her right hand finding his neck. It was tepid to the touch, the vein there throbbing hard and swift.

"I don't blame you. I know it wasn't your fault, but so much has changed since the last time we saw each other," he said, his voice soft, gentle even.

"Like the relationship with your Minbari."

"Her name is Delenn and she is a proud Minbari, but she's so much more than that and I'd kindly thank you to remember that."

He was defending her again. He did that last night as well. Anna slowly moved her hand to the nape of his neck, massaging the area she knew made him relax. They stood in silence for several seconds, him looking at some spot on the other side of the room, and she cradling his neck in her hand. The expected release of tension didn't come and Anna wondered if she was paying attention to the right spot.

John's eyes focused on hers again, and he reached up, removed her hand, and placed it on his cheek. He kept his hand over hers and closed his eyes. His cheek was solid and stubble free and she felt him flexing his jaw muscles, clearly still upset.

"Not the same," he mumbled, opening his eyes and releasing her.

"What's not the same, John?"

He sighed. "It doesn't matter. We'll have to talk later. There are a few pressing issues I must deal with first."

He made to leave and all she could think to say was, "Dinner?"

John turned to her.

"Will you have time to have that discussion over dinner tonight? I understand there are probably things you need to clear up with your Min . . . with Delenn, but dinner would be nice. Maybe you could also give me that tour you mentioned."

He hesitated for a long minute then finally conceded before leaving.

Anna glanced at the breakfast spread and frowned. There was no way in hell she was going to eat a meal he'd ordered for another woman, a Minbari no less. A minute later, she also exited the chamber; she had to place a call to Daniel.

**Part 2**

"Good, Michael, I'm glad you're here," John said when Garibaldi entered his office.

Garibaldi took the seat in front of John's desk, giving him a knowing smile.

"Two wives."

"Yeah, I know, and don't start with me. I already got it from Susan and I'm not in the mood for any of your wise cracks."

"I assumed as much from the message you left me. I know it's inconvenient, John, but Anna's return is good news."

John knew this. Of course, her return was good news, the best in fact. So why did he feel like shit every time he thought about it? Why did he dream last night that she'd never remembered? That was the worst of all. She had every right to remember and know who she was. He couldn't imagine what it was like for her looking in the mirror and not knowing the person staring back. He felt sorry for her, for sure, but did he feel anything more than that? He didn't know.

"It's my dream come true."

"So why does your face look like it's a nightmare come to life?"

He ran his thumb over the iridescent wedding band Delenn slid on his finger only twenty-four hours ago. Once she learned it was a tradition for Humans to exchange rings as part of the wedding ceremony, she'd went to work, researching male wedding bands. She'd found no design that appealed to her, but understood the basic concept, taking it upon herself to sketch her thoughts. And on her last trip to Minbar, she had one of the Worker Caste metallurgist forge the ring out of gold and crystal, a symbol of both of their Homeworlds and their unique union.

"Anna gave me her version of events, but all the pieces aren't falling into place for me."

"You want me to find those missing pieces."

"You're the best bloodhound I know. I would do it myself, but those damn Shadows aren't gonna go on hiatus until I get my personal life together."

Garibaldi nodded, crossing one leg over his knee.

"Do you think she's lying about something, John?"

That was a very good question. John had never known Anna to be much of a liar, ambitious, driven, even a bit intolerant, but never untruthful. Still, that was the old Anna, this new Anna, the one that's resided on Proxima 3 for the last five years was a mystery to him.

"I don't think so, but she may not know everything herself. Even if your version mirrors hers, at least I'll know I have the whole story. That'll be something at least."

"True, but it won't solve your other problem."

"Delenn, yeah, I know. But you can help with that as well."

"After getting your message last night, I contacted a lawyer I know in Earthgov who can be trusted. He's going to check a few things, hopefully open a couple of sealed documents and get back with me. This type of law isn't always as simple as it seems, especially when it involves missing persons who disappeared under questionable circumstances."

"I was thinking the same thing. I can't help but wonder about the mysterious ship that attacked the _Icarus_."

"And Anna doesn't know what happened to the rest of the crew."

John shrugged and took a sip of coffee. "Not that she's told me. Everything I know I put in that message to you."

"What about this Dr. Daniel Montgomery? What role does he play?"

"He was her attending psychiatrist for her memory loss. He seemed to have been a great help getting her established on Proxima 3. That's all I know. I take it you'll be paying the good doctor a house call."

"Most definitely."

Garibaldi raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat. "John, are you sure about the relationship between Anna and this Daniel fellow. I mean," he said, looking uncomfortable, "patients in Anna's delicate condition sometimes form romantic attachments with the very doctor charged with treating them. It's not unusual for such patients to seek comfort in the familiar when all around them is vague and confusing."

That had never occurred to John, and he now wondered whether it even mattered. Would he care if Anna was involved with another man; had shared her bed with Daniel or someone else during their five year separation?

"I guess you'll find out when you get there. When are you leaving?"

"Next shuttle out. I'll contact you as soon as I dock. If all goes well, I'll be back here in time to help take the war to the Shadows or hold down the fort while you, Ivanova, Marcus, and Delenn go hunting for those bastards."

"Yeah, well," he said, slumping back in his chair, "I'd rather go up against a legion of Shadow vessels than deal with Delenn."

"That bad, huh?"

He rolled his eyes heavenward, and then leaned up, placing his elbows on his desk.

"Have you ever tried having an argument with a Minbari? I mean, I've heard Delenn push her point during council meetings, but she doesn't really argue. They argue, she listens, and then she restates her point more forcefully as if she hadn't heard a word they just said."

"That's because she's damn near always right. But it is a waste of time arguing with a Minbari. They're hard headed, remember."

"That's just it, Michael, we didn't have an argument. An argument I could handle, silence . . . well, I can't fight silence. She won't talk to me; I've tried twice this morning. She hasn't taken or returned any of my calls."

"She probably just needs a little time. I'm sure Anna's return was as much a shock for her as it was for you."

"Well, maybe if Lennier hadn't jumped the gun and told her first, I would've had time to smooth things over, explain what I know and my intentions with Anna."

Garibaldi laughed and shook his head.

"Well, you gotta hand it to the little fella, he might be silent, but he's deadly. How she doesn't see he has a thing for her is beyond me."

John concurred. But he had to admit, it'll taken him awhile to see the signs, Lennier's utter respect and devotion to his mentor, making it virtually impossible to glean the love underlying it all.

"Yeah, another argument we're not having. But," he said, waving the thought of Lennier away, "I'm not worried about him. If she cared for Lennier in that way, she would've never started the mating rituals with me."

"So you're not worried that she'll turn to him for comfort. You know, a shoulder to cry on, a caress that turns into more."

John rested his head in his hands, drawing his fingers from his forehead, across his eyes, and down his face.

"I may lose her, but it won't be to him. It'll be because she's too damn stubborn to listen to reason."

"Minbari _are_ a stubborn lot, and you married the most stubborn of them all, a priestess with a warrior's spirit, who works for her people and the betterment of all kind—three in one. It doesn't get more complicated than that."

John had never thought of Delenn in quite that way before. She truly did embody all three castes within her petite frame, making her special and unique beyond the obvious.

"Are you telling me I need to tread lightly with her?"

"I'm telling you, John, that if Delenn is avoiding you, in her mind, she has a very good reason. And from my experience, what Delenn thinks is a good reason, usually is. It may not be what you want to hear, but I doubt if she is doing this out of anger. Delenn knows you did nothing wrong, that you love and married her in good faith."

"So what do you suggest?" he asked, not believing he was seeking marital advice from Michael Garibaldi of all people, only Susan being a worse choice.

"Well, I won't suggest not going to see her because I know as soon as I leave this office you're going to high tail it to the ambassadorial wing."

"You're right, so hurry it up. I spent last night in a cold bed and I would rather not do it again. Hell, that's supposed to be one of the perks of marriage. As it is, I've only experienced the headaches."

"If you make real nice with the ladies, you could—''

"Michael!" John nearly snarled in warning.

"Okay, okay," he said, holding his hands up as if to ward off an attack. "Anyway, the best advice I can give you from my experience with Minbari, and Delenn in particular, is that honor is extremely important to them."

"I know that already," he huffed, wondering why he thought the man would know more about Delenn than he did.

"If you truly appreciated what honor means to them, then you would understand why you slept alone last night, why Delenn could not stay with you. Until this thing with Anna is resolved, be prepared to warm your own bed for awhile."

Shit, he hadn't thought of that. How could he have not thought of that? The logic simple and so Minbari.

Garibaldi stood and asked, "What name did she use while on Proxima 3?"

John stood as well, walking around his desk to stand next to Garibaldi. He handed him a data crystal. "Everything you need to know about Anna Sheridan is here and everything she told me about her life as Melissa Gilbert is also included."

John patted Garibaldi on the shoulder, a manly way of saying thanks. Garibaldi nodded, pocketing the crystal.

"I'll walk you to the docking bay. It's the least I can do."

"Then you're off to see Delenn, wife number two."

"Yes, then I'll be off to see Delenn, wife number one."

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Author's Note:** Some readers have asked about the Shadows and whether John went to Z'Ha'Dum. Remember, this is a What If story based on the idea that Anna never went to Z'Ha'Dum. She went missing, yes, but not because she landed on that ghastly planet. Thus, she was never used by the Shadows, nor was she sent to Babylon 5 to convince John to return to Z'Ha'Dum with her. In this story, none of that happened. Yes, the Shadows are on the move and a threat (see previous chapters), but this story isn't _that_ story. To what degree the Shadow War will play out in this story, I haven't yet decided. I simply wished to explore one possible way Anna's return could've played out for them all if the real Anna returned, and not the shell of the woman we all saw in Season 3, Episode 22: Z'Ha'Dum. This is an AU, so I've taken some liberties with sequencing. Don't get bogged down by that stuff, expecting the story to flow the way it did in the show. Much, if not most, is the same, only a few tweaks to push the story in the direction I want it to go. Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5: Human vs Minbari

**Chapter 4: Human vs. Minbari**

**Part 1**

Lennier watched Delenn through shadowed eyes from his place at her small dining room table. He'd been discreetly viewing her for the last hour as she meticulously pored over one report after another. In fact, she hadn't let up since arriving to her quarters late last night, calling him to her quarters with a distressing weariness he'd never heard in her voice before.

Although her call should've woken him, he couldn't sleep, undoubtedly for the same reason Delenn was now immersing herself in Minbari paperwork. Apparently, meditation wasn't working for either of them, his own pile of folders a wonderful diversionary tonic.

She signed a document, slid it into a tan folder, and placed it aside, another task complete, many more to go. Lennier hated to see her like this, frowning as he thought about the reason for her melancholia.

_John Sheridan_

He'd been there when Anna Sheridan arrived in docking bay, requesting to be taken to her husband, a one John J. Sheridan. Lennier remembered the confused looks on the faces of the two security guards, Ivanova eventually coming to the rescue, and shuttling the woman off before embarrassing questions could be asked and answered.

All he could think about in that moment was Delenn and the shame such news would bring her. She would be dishonored, her reputation marred by a Human who had no concept of Minbari honor. For Delenn to be mated to a male who was mated to another would be a great disgrace back home, especially after the lengths Delenn went through with her clan and The Dreaming to earn their approval for the unnatural union.

"Lennier, please hand me the document the Gaim ambassador brought with him earlier. I believe it's the one right there by your elbow," she said pointing, her face taut with fatigue.

"Of course, Delenn, it's right here."

Lennier picked up the folder and handed it to her. She reached for it, a smile of gratitude his reward.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

"That would be lovely, Lennier. You always know what I need and when I need it. I don't know what I would ever do without you."

Another genuine smile followed before she dropped her head to the reports in her hand, mind back on her duties.

This was how it should be; the way it used to be before Captain Sheridan came along. The two of them working side by side on Minbari foreign policy, a cup of steaming herbal tea their respite; no interruptions, no John Sheridan.

Lennier moved to the kitchen area, pulling out the necessary items for the tea. It wasn't that he didn't respect the captain, or even disliked him. To his surprise, he'd grown to harbor positive feelings towards the man. He'd fought by his side and would do so again, the Shadow War requiring all types of warriors. But in certain matters, Lennier thought, sprinkling herbs in the glass teapot, Minbari and Humans should never come together.

He spared a glance at Delenn, her Human hair contouring her too Human face. She'd changed so much physically, Lennier having to admit he didn't think the transformation would be so . . . overwhelming. He'd supported her as he did in all things, but it was a tremendous effort to keep the shock from his eyes, his voice, when he saw her for the first time.

Now, he was used to her altered form, with a deeper comprehension that the body was truly just a shell for the soul. Delenn's shell may have changed but her Minbari soul never would. Many of their people, like him, didn't understand at first, couldn't see the truth beyond their own prejudices, their shortsightedness. To this, Lennier was ashamed, still trying in his own way, to right a wrong Delenn didn't even know existed. Yet another reason why he tracked her to Sheridan's quarters last night with the disturbing news.

Lennier finished preparing the tea, allowing it to steep before pouring himself and Delenn a cup. She was still engrossed in her work, her delicate features so expressive, mind too focused on other matters to mask her emotions. It was times like this Lennier found her the most intriguing, the most attractive, relaxed with her guards down.

And while physical beauty ranked relatively low on a Minbari's scale of appeal, Lennier found Delenn's physical form, pre and post crystalis, alluring. This too had surprised him, considering his initial reaction to her transformation. But Human women were striking in their own way, and Delenn's combined DNA made her even more so, Lennier thought, his eyes absorbing her dark hair. And even that most Human of attributes drew him to her, making Lennier want to know how it would feel between his fingers, or splayed across his bare chest after they'd . . .

He stiffened at the inappropriate thought, upbraiding himself for thinking of his mentor, his friend in a sexual way. Lennier looked away from her then and at the pot of tea, in need of a distraction of his own.

"Here you are, Delenn," he said, carefully handing her the cup. Lennier took a seat on the other side of the couch, papers and folders strewn between them.

"Thank you, Lennier."

They sipped their tea, discussing home and the growing tension between the religious and warrior castes. It wasn't a happy topic of conversation for either of them, but it was nice, for once, to have her undivided attention.

"Lennier," she said, giving him a meaningful look, setting her cup and hands in her lap. "I know you want to keep me safe, but you must know Captain Sheridan would never intentionally hurt me."

His tea suddenly chilled, his nervous heart following suit. Where was she going with this?

"I know he would never _intentionally_ hurt you, but intent doesn't protect one from harm."

"True, but John is an honorable man. He would've told me the truth once he returned."

He couldn't meet her eyes, his chin falling to his chest in shame.

She moved closer, shoving folders out of her way, placing her cup and his on the tray beside the couch. Delenn reached for him, her warm hand on his chin, gently raising it until their eyes met.

"I thought you were past the point of thinking you must lower your eyes in my presence. I neither want nor expect such deference. You are my friend, Lennier, and I appreciate all you do for me."

She stroked his cheek and every muscle in his body wanted to turn into it and kiss her palm. Just once, just once he would like to know how it would feel to kiss her, if only her hand, her painted lips too much to hope for. He laced his fingers through the hand on his face, cautiously slid it down his neck, to his shoulder, and over his chest, his heart.

"Delenn, I lo—''

**Part 2**

The door beeped, once, twice, three times. While Delenn wasn't interested in speaking with anyone, least of all someone needing something from the Minbari ambassador, she was grateful for the interruption.

Her hand remained fixed under Lennier's trembling one, piercing green eyes holding her own, his rapid pulse throbbing under her touch. He hadn't finished the sentence but he needn't have; they both knew how it would end. Still, Delenn couldn't move, transfixed by the depth of emotion she saw within him; his true face revealed during the light of day, no sleep watching ritual required. How could she have missed this? How did she not realize until now?

Lennier looked as if she was his whole world, the constant buzzing of the door doing nothing to move him from his spot. And she too felt entranced by the hand that held hers to his chest, the eyes that kept her gaze. Then his right hand was in her hair, gently fingering the ends, twirling strands about his fingers like a child would a new discovery.

The sensation was odd and for a second Delenn wished it was otherwise. How less complicated her life would be if Lennier moved her the way John did; if Lennier was the calling of her heart and not a non-Minbari, a Human of all people. But the universe worked in mysterious ways, as did the heart. And how less complicated would John's life be if he'd fallen in love with a full Human instead of her?

_The heart does as the heart does._

His hand made its way to her cheek, Lennier's thumb gliding across the part of her crest that started at her temple. His touch was warm, his eyes inquisitive, and she understood. Why would he not be as curious about her change as any other Minbari? But this was Lennier touching her, she would allow him this, but only this.

Lennier's right hand explored further into her hair, fingers delving into grooves, and then sliding across the back where crest met Human scalp and hair.

"It's so soft," he said, and she smiled, nodding.

Her door cycled open and in the seconds it took her to realize she'd given no entrance command, John was charging their way. She jumped to her feet, immediately placing herself between the men, stalling his attack.

"What in the hell is going on here, Delenn?" John demanded; face red, eyes wild and dangerous.

"Perhaps it would be best if I leave," Lennier suggested, but made no effort to move. "Unless you would like for me to stay, Delenn, or," he said, taking a step forward and standing next to her, "you would like me to escort Captain Sheridan to the door. If he is unwelcomed—"

Delenn placed a hand on his sleeve, stilling his words. No matter how angry or jealous each man was right now, she wouldn't allow either to put himself in a situation in which there was no honorable way out.

"John isn't unwelcomed here," she said, speaking in a tone she knew Lennier would believe. She had to make him feel that she, not Sheridan, was in control, and that he posed no threat. If not . . . well, one of them needed to leave. And she knew it wouldn't be John.

"Of course I'm not unwelcomed. But you might want to—''

"John," her stern voice came.

"Fine," he said, throwing up his hands, "the sooner he leaves, the sooner you can explain what in the world I just walked in on."

She took a reluctant Lennier by the arm, leading him to the door. "I'll be fine. We already discussed this. John would never hurt me," she said in their native language. Delenn went to reach for him then stilled her hand. "Thank you for your loyalty and trust, Lennier, my very good _friend_."

He lowered his eyes and bowed, then looked over her shoulder and at John.

"You are my very good friend as well Delenn, you always will be."

She was relieved he understood her words. They would never be more than friends. And she understood his. He loved her, even if she didn't love him.

The door opened and closed. One male gone, the Human one remaining, neither confused heart she had strength enough to deal with. Not when her own was in tatters.

She turned to John and sighed, the heat radiating from him enough to melt the ice caps on Tuzanor. She was so very tired. Too exhausted to do what needed to be done.

Neither of them said a word. John fumed and she cleaned up, organizing her folders and papers, returning the tray and teacups to the kitchen.

"So, you have nothing to say for yourself," he finally said, his voice calmer but not by much.

"There is nothing to say, John."

"What do you mean there is nothing to say? He had his paws all over you. And if I'm not mistaken, about to kiss you. You think that requires no explanation."

Whatever calm he gained in the silence was now gone, his voice raised, words coming out like a snarl, the accusation both insulting and preposterous. Then again, she amended, perhaps not. Remembering the intensity in which Lennier looked at her, the tender way he held her hand and caressed her cheek, Delenn had to admit that if she'd given him the slightest encouragement he probably would've kissed her.

Valen help her, life at Temple was so much simpler. But her life hadn't been simple since becoming the Grey Council's acolyte. Why should now be any different? Why should she expect more from the universe than what it has already shown her?

She took a seat at the table, looked at the chair opposite her and back at John.

"Please sit, I'd rather not have this discussion with you stalking about like a mad gok."

She'd never seen anyone sit in a chair as roughly as he did, his upper body leaning into the table like he was ready to pounce. Perhaps he would, she his prey.

"Okay, I'm sitting, now explain."

Delenn didn't respond immediately, not really knowing where to begin. She was as surprised by Lennier's behavior, his feelings, as much as John probably was when he saw them together.

"It was innocent, just a misunderstanding."

John huffed, settling back against the chair.

"The only misunderstanding is that Lennier thought he could be Lancelot to your Guinevere."

Delenn had no idea what he'd just said, and couldn't prevent the frown of confusion from forming.

He huffed again, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"You're _my_ wife, Delenn. He must be made to understand that whatever feelings he harbors for you will not be reciprocated."

"Of course they won't be returned, John. He knows that. He acted without thought."

"No, I think he finally acted _with _thought."

She knew that to be true, but not in the same way John did. Lennier would've never been so bold if he viewed John as her mate, her husband. But he didn't and he had every reason not to.

They drifted into another bout of silence, John darting looks at her, opening his mouth, and then closing it. Finally, his eyes softened, as did his voice. "I'm sorry for barging in, but you haven't returned any of my calls and then to see you with Lennier like that. Well . . . I lost my temper, honey. The thought of him or someone else . . . I couldn't handle that, Delenn."

John slid his chair out from the table and closer to her, their knees almost touching. He took her hand in his and placed it on his right cheek, closed his eyes and sighed. Delenn felt like doing the same, wanting to allow herself to enjoy the security and love of his touch. But she couldn't; he was no longer hers. Correction, he was never hers.

"Anna is your wife, John, not me."

He shook his head, holding firm to her hand, a feeling of déjà vu rising in her.

"Anna is your wife."

He didn't answer. He turned into her hand, kissing her wrist then her palm, causing Delenn to shudder, heart thumping more than it should, the way it always did when he touched her like this. John leaned in to kiss her, his lips a perfect temptation, her desire a Starfire Wheel that would consume her, burn her, if she allowed it. Painfully, Delenn turned away and he finally opened his hazel eyes, all the anger gone, replaced by something far worse.

"I need you, honey; don't do this to me, to us."

"John, she is your-''

"No, you're my wife, Delenn, not her but you. Stop saying otherwise."

He grabbed her then, pulling her into a torturous embrace, his face nuzzled in her hair, whispering, "I love you, honey. We committed ourselves to each other. I'm your husband and you're my wife. Her return changes nothing."

He was wrong; it changed everything.

"I'm Minbari, John, not Human."

"I know. What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, pulling back from her, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

"It means . . . it means . . . I am not subject to the laws of your planet nor you to mine. We engaged in a Human marriage ceremony, John, but Minbari do not recognize such a ritual as binding."

He released her, his face registering the first embers of dread.

"But you accepted my ring. We exchanged vows. We _are_ husband and wife."

Delenn shook her head, rising, needing to put some distance between them. She knew she couldn't avoid this conversation forever, but it was much harder than she'd imagined, his sad, confused eyes weakening her resolve.

"I accepted your ring and engaged in the wedding service for the same reason you participated in the sleep watching and the Shan'Fal—because it was your mating custom and it meant a lot to you; therefore, it meant something to me."

He stood, a sliver of his anger returning.

"What are you saying, Delenn?"

She took a controlled breath, letting it out slowly before she lost her nerve, giving into the love she had for this man.

"We didn't complete the final Minbari mating ritual; therefore, according to my people, we are not a mated couple. All rituals must be completed before our union will be recognized by my clan, my caste."

"We can do that now, honey," he pleaded. "There's nothing stopping us."

"You have a wife, John. I cannot finish the ritual with you now. It is forbidden. As it is, I've already disgraced myself by starting the rituals with a mated man."

"You didn't know any different, Delenn. Hell, neither of us did."

"True, but I know now and I cannot move forward with you."

He grasped her forearms, his hold rough, desperate. Feeling his turmoil, she wanted to wrap him in her arms, confess her undying love for him, and take away the haunted look in his eyes.

"Do you remember your vows to me, honey?"

She did but she didn't want to think of them, relive a day that began with hope and ended with despair.

"Well, I do," he said when she failed to answer. "You said, 'I love you, John Sheridan. You are my best friend. Today I give myself to you in marriage. I promise to encourage and inspire you, to laugh with you, and to comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle. I promise to love you in good times and in bad, when life seems easy and when it seems hard, when our love is simple, and when it is an effort. I promise to cherish you, and to always hold you in highest regard. These things I give to you today, and all the days of our life.'"

Delenn tried to pull away from him, from her words of fidelity. But he'd remembered every word, his eyes daring her to deny them.

"You once told me words have power and that Minbari never make a promise they don't intend to keep."

He yanked her even closer, his face unbearably close to her own.

"Did those vows mean nothing to you, Delenn? Can you stand here and tell me our wedding meant nothing to you, that you don't consider me your husband?"

She could say none of those things. He knew her heart too well and she would never lie to him.

"John, please."

"Please what, Delenn? Please accept that you're not my wife. Please ignore everything we've been through together and let you go. Please honor your people's rituals above my own. Please what, Delenn?"

His frightened whisper was worse than his angry yell, his words, his passion, lancing her; more brutal than anything the Inquisitor did to her.

He was a Human; he couldn't understand the depth of her error. To interfere with the union of a mated pair was a great taboo for Minbari. It simply wasn't done. Lennier understood this, but John never would.

"I have dishonored my house."

"By loving me? I guess to your people, I'm just a stupid, barbaric Human."

She shook her head, the beginning of the first tears starting to fall.

"It's not about any of that. If you were Minbari, my decision would have to be the same. I have no choice."

"You do have a choice, Delenn."

"No, I don't." Her voice broke then, the dam crumbling, legs giving way. John caught her, his strong arms lifting her, settling them both on the sofa.

Unable to hold the pain in any longer, Delenn cried, for what was and what could no longer be. And John held her, his words of love meant to soothe bringing more heartache, more rain.

She snuggled in closer, arms around his neck, wet cheek against wet cheek. Delenn had never seen him cry before; she wished she didn't have to now, because of her, knowing nothing could change their fate.

She sat up and stared into his loving eyes. Delenn wiped the tears from his face, memorizing each masculine feature as if she would never see him again. Then she reached down, removed the engagement and wedding rings, and held them out to him.

"No, Delenn. No!"

"I cannot keep them. They are a symbol of something I have no right to claim."

She stood and he followed, still vehemently shaking his head.

"There must be a way."

"There isn't."

"I'll find one."

Delenn went to him then, wrapped one arm around his waist, hugging him, while discreetly placing the rings in his jacket pocket with her other hand.

"This isn't goodbye, Delenn," he said, kissing her hair. "Remember, there is no word in your language for goodbye."

"I know."

She took one more selfish breath, deeply inhaling his reassuringly familiar scent. It would have to do, last her a lifetime. She released him and stepped away, his arms dropping to his side, eyes as low as any acolyte, lower even.

"Please go, John."

"But—''

"Please. I can't . . . I . . . please go and spare us both."

He went. But it was too late for either of them to be spared.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	6. Chapter 6: Ivanova's Mission

**Chapter 5: Ivanova's Mission**

**Part 1**

Commander's Personal Log: December 7, 2260

_We're shipping out telepaths to the races that have signed on against the Shadows. Upon arrival, they'll be assigned to warships already on patrol. Because the Shadow vessels are vulnerable to telepathic interference . . . we hope this'll even up the odds a little. _

_Sheridan's coordinated the defense . . . with what's left of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds. He hardly ever leaves the War Room anymore, using the war with the Shadows as a diversion to keep his mind off the dissolution of his relationship with Ambassador Delenn. He tried not to show it, but you can see the fatigue in his eyes._

_Franklin's still on walkabout. No one's seen him in over a week. Not since he examined Anna Sheridan. We hope he's all right and works this through soon. We're gonna need him back in Medlab._

_Though I don't share their beliefs, I'm glad to have Brother Theo and his monks onboard. Ever since we broke from Earth, they've been a wonderful stabilizing force . . . working with people to keep them calm. How he can be so annoying one moment and so comforting the next is beyond me . . ._

**Part 2**

"You must be outta your bloody mind, Susan."

"So, you aren't going to help me, Marcus?"

"Ah, let me think for a moment." A sarcastic pause followed and she frowned, not finding his mockery amusing.

"No, I don't believe I can help you there, Commander."

"Oh, come on, this is Delenn and the captain."

"Precisely, which is why I'm staying out of it. I recommend you do the same."

Susan was sure she could enlist the Ranger's aid in her little impromptu mission. Garibaldi would've been her first choice but he was off station, looking into the Anna Sheridan business on Proxima 3.

She moved from around Sheridan's desk and next to him.

"I can't believe you're even considering this," he said. "I thought you didn't like to get involved in other people's affairs."

Yeah, she couldn't believe she was thinking of doing this either. But, what choice did she really have?

"For the last week, the captain's been carrying on cranky. He's not eating, or sleeping, and he's ripping into everyone who isn't a brunette Minbari."

"Yes, Entil'zha."

"Exactly, which is why I thought you would like to help. You have a good relationship with Delenn. She not only likes you, but respects your opinion."

"Yes, and I respect hers. She knows her mind, Susan, and she isn't wrong."

"Yes she is. She married John and now she's acting as if it didn't happen. You sat right next to me when they said the 'I dos,' or have you forgotten?"

He arched a dark, hairy eyebrow at her, and scratched his equally scruffy beard.

"I haven't forgotten, Susan, but you know nothing about the Minbari."

"Well, I may not speak the language or know how to use a denn'bok," she said, surprised she'd felt insulted, "but I know Delenn, and she can't want this."

"Look," he said, stepping closer, his own concern shining in those unfathomable eyes, "your intentions are honorable and I would help you if I thought it would do any good. I would do anything, fight any enemy for Delenn."

"So why won't you help me? We have this war with the Shadows, they're attacking everything in sight, and the only two people who can give us the slightest chance of making it out alive aren't even speaking to one another."

"I know." His voice was solemn. "Don't you think I know? Delenn is no better . . . well, she isn't cranky like Captain Sheridan, but she isn't herself either. She's spent most of the week on the war cruiser trying to figure out where the Shadows will strike next, and handling her ambassadorial duties from there instead of here."

"Yeah, I had noticed. You've seen her then."

"Of course, I'm her eyes and ears. I go places where others won't."

"And still you refuse to help me."

Marcus placed his hands on her shoulders then quickly removed them, the contact warm, fleeting.

"Let it go, Susan. They may not be man and wife but they understand their responsibility. They'll come together when the time is right; fight the battle that must be fought, die if that is what is required."

"Now I know why I don't have more of these talks with you, Marcus. You're depressing as hell."

He said something in Minbari, smiled, and left. She hated when he did that; she really needed to learn that language, know what he was saying, and why he didn't just say it in English. But for now it didn't matter. Marcus would be of no help. And how he could claim the captain and Delenn weren't husband and wife was beyond her.

_Okay, Susan, it's up to you. _

**Part 3**

Ivanova had to wait until the end of her shift before she could proceed with phase one of her plan. She surveyed the Fresh Aire and found her quarry seated by herself, drink in hand, red hair pulled back in a long, neat braid.

"May I join you?" Susan asked, Anna's stunned eyes turning up to meet her's.

"Umm . . . well—''

"Thanks," she said, pulling out the chair opposite her and taking an uninvited seat. "Waiter." She snapped her fingers, gesturing to the tall man in the blue suit who'd just finished serving the guests at the nearby table.

"Yes, Commander," he said. "Would you like a menu? Today's special is—''

"No, no, I won't be here that long. I'll have water with lime."

Actually, dinner sounded great, but she really didn't want to share a meal with Anna Sheridan. In fact, she had no interest in the woman at all. To be fair, she had nothing against the captain's wife. She seemed like a pleasant enough lady. And she was certainly pretty and polite. But . . .

"Is there something I can do for you, Commander Ivanova? I was hoping to have a nice, quiet meal—''

". . . with John," she finished. "Yeah, how's that working out for you? Have you two rekindled the old flame yet?"

Okay, the bitchy attitude wasn't called for and a small part of Susan knew that. Anna Sheridan was a victim and, to be honest, she really felt sorry for her; being attacked, losing one's memory, and living a false life had to be tough. She should be more sensitive, get to know the woman, hell, pay for her meal. But no, all she could see when she looked at her was the person who could get them all killed.

Anna swirled the straw around in her drink, plucked the cherry from it, and delicately ate the fruit, dropping the stem on a napkin.

"Did John send you here to let me know he can't make it?"

"No, I just thought we could have a nice little talk."

"Why? You don't know me. We aren't friends."

"True, but that doesn't mean we can't have a congenial conversation."

"Is that what this is going to be? You don't appear like you're much interested in what I have to say. I think you simply want me to go away."

Okay, perhaps she should've left Anna for last. The woman seemed bitter, then again, Susan thought, could she really blame her. Losing five years of her life, due to no fault of her own, would make anyone bitter. On top of that, John wasn't exactly showering her with attention.

"We have a universe to save from the Shadows," she said, ignoring the too accurate analysis. "They're nasty, vicious bastards who will kill anything or anyone on sight."

"I know, John told me. That's all he talks about. On and on he goes until I think he's not talking to me at all. I'm nothing more than one of those schematics he keeps looking at, hoping an epiphany will strike."

"Great, so you know about the Shadows."

Perhaps this wasn't going to be as difficult as she'd thought.

"Yes, I saw their ships, the black spider like things."

She swirled the straw again, her face abruptly turning sullen.

"I think it's the same ship that attacked the _Icarus_," she admitted, Susan choking on the water the waiter had brought her.

"What?"

"Yeah, I saw a picture of it in the War Room two days ago. You look like John did when I told him the same thing." She shrugged, "I think you sputtered a bit more than he did, but he wasn't happy, as you can imagine."

"No, no, I'm sure he wasn't." She wiped her mouth, wondering why the captain hadn't shared that bit of news with her and why the Shadows were so far away from home base five years ago.

"You think I'm a distraction. That's why you're here, right, Commander? You think if I wasn't on the station John would be able to concentrate on the war at hand, instead of worrying about his not so dead wife and a Minbari he believes to be his wife."

Damn, the woman was perceptive. Maybe Anna could just give her cliff notes to her own speech and spare them both the hassle.

"Right, so if you know all of this, why don't you give him some breathing room? He's under a lot of stress and don't need the additional headache."

"Headache, that's what you think I am?"

Hell, she didn't mean for it to come out like that. But, yes, the whole damn thing was a headache.

"No, not you, Anna, this situation." She shook her head then took a long drink from her glass, now wishing she'd ordered something much, much stronger.

"What do you think of her?" Anna asked, before Susan had a chance to figure out the mystery of which alcoholic drink went best with a migraine.

"Of who?"

"John's Minbari."

_John's Minbari? Did Delenn not have a name in her little girl lost world?_

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"Does what bother me? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about John marrying a Minbari, the very people who tried to destroy our planet."

"That war was over a long time ago and both sides did things we've come to regret or should regret if we have an ounce of humanity."

"How can you say that?"

"I can say that," she started, realizing her voice had just pitched an octave. Calming herself, she tried again. "I can say that because I've gotten to know them. And what I've learned during my time on Babylon 5 is that most, if not all, of what I thought I knew about them was false and they knew even less about us, except, of course, that a few of our more moronic brethren, in fact, fired on their ship and killed their leader."

"And you think that makes what they did to us okay? You think we should forgive them because they ended the war instead of making us pay the ultimate price for a stupid mistake?"

This was so far from the conversation she intended to have with this woman and Susan didn't know if Anna Sheridan had always hated the Minbari or if this was the new but not improved version.

"I suggest," she said, finishing her drink, "if you hope to renew your relationship with the captain, you keep your opinions about the Minbari to yourself. We all do things in war we regret, Anna, even Sheridan. What counts most is what we do after the weapons have been quieted, the dead have been buried, and the tears have been shed. Do we continue the battle cry for blood, or do we roll up our sleeves and start building bridges? Ambassador Delenn is a bridge builder and without her and her people, there would be no Babylon Project, and no hope against the darkness that is coming our way."

She stirred her drink again, Susan now viewing it as a nervous habit.

"Is Delenn the real reason why you're here? Do you even want to be John's wife anymore, or do you simply not want him to be happy with a Minbari?"

"I . . . I . . . he's still my husband," she stammered, not answering the question.

"Yes, but do you still love him? I mean truly love him, the way you did before you went missing. I'm not trying to be insensitive, but it has been five years, most of which you lived as a single woman with no knowledge of a husband, no sense of fidelity."

Anna's eyes dropped then, the forgotten plate of food suddenly appetizing. And Susan could see the truth in the eyes that refused to meet her own. This was so not what she expected when she sat down. Had it only been fifteen minutes? And why hadn't she ordered that drink yet?

"He asked me to marry him," Anna admitted, her head rising with the confession. "Daniel asked me to marry him, and that night I dreamed of John and our life together."

Susan was certain the Minbari would have a ritual for such an event, or a proverb from Valen about the universe and fate. She was also certain that John had no idea and she'd be damned if she told him his loving wife had been making it with some guy on Proxima 3 why he was mourning her death, clinging to the past, too afraid to let go, move on.

Susan leaned in, elbows on the table, eyes focused on the red head. "If you love John, then tell him and see what he wants to do about it. If you're confused about your feelings, then work em out and make a decision. If you love this Daniel, then set John free so he can be with Delenn."

Susan stood, saw the delinquent waiter, and fought the urge to shoot him for making her go through this conversation sober.

"Sheridan is too nice of a guy to say it, but he isn't the same man you knew, the man you married. Life here has changed him, as it has all of us."

"I've noticed." Anna paused, swirling that blasted straw again. "Is it because of her, the Minbari . . . I mean Ambassador Delenn?"

Susan nodded and Anna went back to her drink.

An hour later, she was standing outside of Delenn's quarters, cursing her pig-headed mission. Hadn't she just been through the ringer with Mrs. Sheridan number one, now she was going to push her luck with Mrs. Sheridan number two.

"Come in," Delenn said and the door opened.

Susan walked in, her eyes forced to adjust to the low light.

"Lights at seventy-five percent," Delenn said, coming from her bedroom. "I apologize, Commander, I'm just returning. I wasn't expecting anyone."

Susan knew that, Lieutenant Corwin having informed her of the ambassador's return.

"It's all right, Ambassador, I should've made an appointment, but it's so hard to catch up with you nowadays."

Delenn gave her a chilling blank look that sent a shiver up her spine. Now, she understood why Marcus refused this mission. But she had a plan. Unlike the fiasco with Anna Sheridan, Susan wasn't about to go at Delenn with a full frontal assault. Not that such an approach would work with her anyway. But there were other options.

"I wanted to invite you to dinner with Brother Theo."

"Brother Theo?"

"Yes, several of his colleagues arrived on the station while you were away. A Reverend Will Dexter, a Mr. Chang, Rashid Abdul, and Rabbi Meyer, all men of varying Earth faiths," she said, noticing the intrigued look on Delenn's face. "I thought you would be interested in meeting them. Consider it an opportunity for a cultural exchange of religious ideas."

"Who else will be attendance, Commander?" she asked, her look no longer blank, but all too knowing.

"I'll be there, of course."

"And the captain?"

"He's been spending a lot of time in the War Room. I doubt if he'll come up for air."

"Are you sure he won't be there?"

It was a straightforward question; one Susan knew the answer to.

"No, he won't be there; he's far too busy trying to figure out the Shadows' next move."

Yeah, a straightforward question but a crooked lie; she was going to hell for this, with six religious leaders and a grumpy captain leading the way.

"So . . . umm, I'll see you there."

Susan left before Delenn answered, hoping she'd done the right thing. Mission completed, she headed to her quarters for a nap, vowing to never interfere in the lives of her friends again, that is, if the Shadows didn't kill them all first.

**Part 4**

"Oh, sorry. I saw the lights were out," Reverend Dexter said. "I didn't think anyone was in here. I just couldn't sleep. Thought I'd do a little walking."

Sheridan looked up to see the tall man standing in the doorway. He'd met him and his entourage a couple of days ago and had dinner with them last night, the men bringing much appreciated news from home.

"I can go—''

"No, no, it's fine. Would you like some tea?" Sheridan offered. "I find it helps me sleep."

"Just a little. Thanks. The legs get funny when you get older. You're sitting, they wanna stand. You stand, they wanna lay down. You lay down, they wanna go for a walk."

He sat down in a chair across from him and poured a cup of tea.

Sheridan smiled at the reverend and then resumed his work, shuffling station papers.

"Still working this late?"

John nodded. "Daily reports, oxygen consumption logs, recycling figures," he said, thumbing from one document to another. "It never stops. Sometimes I think I stay in the War Room as much as to avoid this stuff . . . as I do to keep track of the war."

"It's a great responsibility, isn't it?"

Another nod.

"And . . . who do you share this great responsibility with?"

"Well, there's Ivanova, Garibaldi . . . Franklin's on walkabout, others. The work gets spread around."

Reverend Dexter raised a finger and Sheridan stopped talking, not knowing where the man was going with this line of questioning. He didn't have time for this.

"Now, I didn't say work. I said responsibility. I've watched your people since I came aboard. They all come to you with questions . . . problems, concerns. So who do you go to? Who do you talk to?"

Sheridan shuffled his papers again, looking down.

"Well . . . there isn't anybody. It's my responsibility. I can't put it on anyone else."

"I didn't say you should put it on anyone else either, just talking about it . . . sharing the burden as much as you can. You know, back during the Minbari War I was a chaplain. You could always tell the good officers from the bad ones. The bad ones were loaded down with this sense of terrible responsibility. It consumed them. They wanted to do right by the men and women . . . under their command, but after awhile they became more and more . . . isolated, unapproachable, downright unsociable."

"Cranky?" John suggested, remembering Ivanova's not so nice description of him.

"Now, that's as good a word as any. They were in such a fog of worry and self-doubt that nobody could get through. When your worry tank gets full, people stop coming to you because . . . they don't want to add to it. Have to empty out your worry tank once in a while, or you just get more isolated."

The reverend took a sip of his tea, the clear cup small in his large hands.

"Is that what you think is happening to me?"

"I was just looking at your eyes . . . and remembering the same look on a lot of the faces I saw . . . during the last war. That's all."

"So now you'd like me to turn all this over to God, right?"

Dexter leaned forward and Sheridan felt agitated, annoyed even.

"When God comes knocking at your door, you won't need me . . . or anyone else to tell you what that sound is. But you gotta remember, after God created man, he created Eve . . . because he knew we all need someone to talk to . . . someone to help shoulder the burden. She loves you, you know. I saw it in her face at dinner every time she looked at you."

He definitely didn't want to talk about this, about her. As far as he was concerned, Delenn did everything in her power not to look at him during the dinner. Hell, she'd barely spent any time on the station since their split.

Snorting, he picked up his papers and crossed his legs. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Of course, I was just—''

"Delenn's been through a lot lately," he found himself saying. "We all have. She's got enough problems on her hands without giving her mine as well. Thank you for your concern, Reverend."

Reverend Dexter nodded and stood, preparing to leave.

"You know," he said, peering down at Sheridan with sympathetic brown eyes, "before I got married . . . Emily used to come by and help me clean out my apartment. Well, I asked her, 'How come you're so eager to help clean my place when your place is just as bad?' She said, 'Because cleaning your place helps me forget . . . what a mess I've made of mine. And when I sweep my floor, all I've done is sweep my floor. But when I help you clean up your place, I am helping you.'"

Sheridan gave the wise man a considering look.

"The way I lived back then, sometimes the mess was too much for both of us . . . but it was sure nice to have the company. Good night, Captain."

And just like that, he was alone again with his station work. He thought a minute, deciding he was tired of all of this. He turned the light off, stood, and left. He had a stop to make.

"It's John," he said, announcing himself.

The door opened and Delenn stood on the other side, looking more beautiful than she had a right to, considering he could do nothing about it. If things had gone his way, they would've been living as a happily married couple a week and a half by now. And he wouldn't still be having sex dreams, waking to an empty bed and a hard on.

"I've been going over the Shadow's attacks and I can't seem to figure out a pattern. There isn't any logic to it, at least not that I can find. I was hoping you would come to the War Room and lend me a fresh set of eyes, a different perspective."

She paused, her hands clasped in front of her, clearly thinking if he was purposing more than the offer on the table.

"You once said that we were partners. Is that no longer the case, Delenn, or have you ended that between us as well?"

That came out wrong, or perhaps, too right; his anger so close to the surface. He'd spent the last week doing nothing but working, trying to forget her and cursing his weakness each time he checked to see whether she'd returned from the war cruiser. And the first time he saw her in all that time, she could manage no more than ten words for him during a dinner he was sure she didn't know he was due to attend.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine, John, you're right. We are partners in this war. If you need my help, I will come with you."

He smiled, backed away, and allowed her to exit. They were still partners. His grin widened. That was something. Now, if only Garibaldi would call in with some good news and put him out of his two wife misery. But first, the Shadows.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	7. Chapter 7: Partners, Past and Present

**Chapter 6: Partners: Past and Present**

**Part 1**

They'd been at it for over an hour, Delenn pondering the same set of Shadow attacks that had plagued John's mind for more hours than he cared to count. As they made their way to the War Room, he'd explained. "The Shadows keep attacking random targets. Very illogical. On the other hand, once engaged, their tactics are very successful. Very logical."

Now, however, Delenn looked as frustrated as he'd felt the entire week, trying to make sense of a series of seemingly random attacks.

"You're right," she said with a sigh, shoulders hunched, brow contorted. "There's no pattern to the Shadow attacks. No pattern at all." She turned to him, their chairs next to each other, a wall-sized grid in front of them. "I'm sorry. I wish I could see it."

"It's okay. Sometimes . . . sometimes it's just nice to have the company."

And wasn't that the understatement of the century. As tense as John felt about his inability to decipher the Shadow's war plan, he was elated to have Delenn beside him, working together, pooling their talents. They were indeed partners, even if no longer in the romantic sense.

Delenn nodded at him and rose. He stood with her and they made their way to the other side of the War Room, neither ready to admit defeat.

"Put the three-dimensional grid back up again," John said to Lieutenant Corwin. "Display the attacks in sequence. Chronological order."

A cube display appeared, along with red dots representing points of Shadow attacks.

"Wait," he said. "Did you see what I just saw?"

"I think so. They started here," Delenn said, pointing, once perturbed eyes turning fierce with hope, "then jumped across this area. Stop. Display full attack data."

"Move the tactical display inward . . . peeling off the attacks on the outer areas and show me the middle of this sector."

The grid shifted and changed, the cube revealing John's orders.

"Stop. Nothing. There have been no attacks in the center of this area. They've actually gone around this part to attack on the other side. Why? Why leave it alone?"

"The Rangers say that many refugee ships fleeing the war . . . have been heading towards this area of space . . . because so far, it hasn't been attacked."

John considered her words, feeling for once, they may be on to something.

"It's interesting. What if they wanted to drive the refugees into one area, corral them? Make it easier to hit them all at once?"

"Could be," Delenn said, her stern face concerned. "The effect would be devastating, demoralizing."

"That could be their intent. Maybe this is as much about terror as it is about territory. When we've had wars back home, sometimes one side would leave . . . a few areas of enemy territory undamaged. That way you would get maximum results when you finally hit them with something big. Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Dresden, San Diego.

"They could be doing the same thing here. Drawing them in—thousands of ships, escorts, and refugees from a dozen worlds . . . in preparation for a major offensive."

"It makes sense. It's what I'd do," he admitted, without thinking how that would sound to a Religious Caste Minbari. He realized his error immediately.

"What?" Delenn asked. She sounded repulsed at the idea, at the thought that he could be so callous.

"Well . . . You know," he stammered, "if I were the bad guys. If I were them. The only way to beat them is to think like them."

"Think like them?" Her voice raised, tone disapproving.

"Yes."

"No!"

They stared at each other, the warrior and the priestess holding on to their side of the battle line, neither willing to let go and cross to the other side.

John looked back at the grid and then to Delenn. He smiled awkwardly, and then reached for her, taking her right hand in his.

It was so warm and soft, the urge to pull her into his arms unbelievably strong, but the fear she would turn away from him again was a too sobering thought.

"You know me well enough to know that I would never do such a thing, Delenn. I just meant it's a very good strategy, one I wouldn't have recognized if it hadn't been for you."

He stepped closer, unable to fight the invisible bands tugging at his heart. Her eyes dropped but she didn't step away.

"I've been at this for a week and couldn't make heads or tails of it. You sit with me for a little more than an hour and all the illogical pieces fall into place."

"As you say, two eyes are better than one," Delenn said, her eyes lifting to his own. "If we are correct, Sector 86 is where the Shadows will next strike. I think it's time I show you what I've been working on."

"You have something you would like to show me?" His question was full of sexual innuendo, and in case her Minbari mind missed it, the way his eyes raked over her body should've driven his point home.

A sweet pink blush followed and her eyes dropped once more. She understood perfectly. Perhaps he could press his luck a bit more. Delenn had yet to move away, meaning, she was letting her heart dictate her actions and not her mind. John didn't want to give her mind a chance to take control.

"I've missed you," he whispered, loosely wrapping an arm around her waist, the others in the room fading into the background, until all he saw was her.

His other hand moved to her shoulder, her neck, and then to her cheek, his thumb gliding over her jaw. She gazed up at him, lips parted, and oh so inviting. He could almost taste them. How long had it been since he had? How long would she stay in his arms before she realized what she was doing, what she wanted to happen in spite of Minbari protocol?

John leaned down to her, their lips an excruciating pulse point apart. "Have you missed me, Delenn? Am I still the calling of your heart?"

She took an audible sigh, and he could smell the sweet cinnamon of herbal tea on her breath. And he wondered if it would taste as sweet on her tongue, if she would allow him to find out.

"Do you, honey?"

Delenn closed the imperceptible distance between them, the hint of her moist lips grazing his, and then she abruptly stiffened. She stepped out of his embrace, looking flustered, if not ashamed.

"John we . . . I can't. This is wrong."

"Delenn—'' he started to plead, the opening of the doors to the War Room stopping him, the person walking through them a ghost with horrible timing.

His eyes must've registered his shock, for Delenn turned to see what had caught his attention.

"Hello. You must be Delenn. I'm Anna Sheridan—John's wife."

Anna walked down the few steps and stood in front of a stunned Delenn. John looked around to see if anyone else had heard. No one seemed to be paying them any attention, the crew hard at work, or doing a nice job pretending not to see the little soap opera unfolding.

While John hated that Delenn had taken to spending so much time on the _Enfili_, he couldn't help but see one positive to her absence. And this was it, the chance meeting he'd so dreaded.

He felt like his mouth was full of cotton, his brain percolating with thoughts he couldn't force from his lips.

And then there was Anna giving Delenn a long, appraising look. John's heart fell to the basement of his stomach, having no idea how Delenn would react to Anna's proclamation of her status in his life or her blatant perusal, sizing up the competition.

Then his mind went to a conversation he'd had with Marcus. The Ranger was the only one he felt comfortable enough to talk to about Delenn who would also know enough Minbari culture to shed light on his sorry predicament. Marcus confirmed exactly what Delenn had told him, which did nothing for his mood or hope. However, he'd gone into more detail, outlining the penance rituals that should take place after the dissolution of the relationship. According to Marcus, Delenn was expected to offer amends to the injured party. In this instance, Anna was considered the injured party.

John's eyes shifted to Delenn, who stood only an inch shorter than Anna, her back perfectly erect, face blank. The thought of her apologizing for their relationship, their marriage, made bile rise in his throat.

"I was hoping to meet you when I first arrived, but you're a hard woman to track down." She was smiling, but John knew that smile, and he wasn't fooled.

"I've been off station."

John waited for Delenn to say something else, and apparently so was Anna, her fake smile still plastered on her knowing face. She knew Delenn would be here and came for this very moment—to blindside her. Why else would she come to the War Room so late? He couldn't hide a smirk, he'd forgotten the games some Earth women played when it came to affairs of the heart. Delenn may play her cards close to her vest and drive him crazy with one ritual after another, but she would never deliberately seek to embarrass or dishonor another.

"What are you doing here?" he finally managed to ask, the silence a boulder threatening to squash them all.

"I thought I could be of assistance. Ivanova told me you've been spending too much time in here, not eating or sleeping. Another set of eyes couldn't hurt."

"Thank you, but," he said, nodding to Delenn, "I've already benefitted from that second set of eyes."

Anna returned her judging gaze to Delenn who stepped back and around the redhead.

John's heart lurched. Delenn looked as if she was about to administer that apology, to offer her penance. Instead, she gave Anna the barest of bows, and then faced him, her face a controlled mask of unreadable emotions. And it was then that he knew, he understood. Delenn would give Anna nothing more; she'd already stepped aside, denying her place in his life, his heart.

Marcus said that such a penance would normally come in the form of Delenn denouncing her love for him, denying that he was the calling of her heart. No matter how much she refused to admit that she was his wife, that their union wasn't complete because they failed to finish the last Minbari mating ritual, John knew, without a doubt, that Delenn loved him. And for her to give that penance, she would have to lie. Minbari did not lie, and Delenn would never lie about her feelings for him just to fulfill a rite of atonement.

"It's late, Captain Sheridan, and I do not wish to prolong the day. We have much to plan for, now that we know where the Shadows will hit next."

"If I interrupted—''

Delenn's sharp eyes stopped whatever Anna was about to say.

"I will take my leave. Captain. Mrs. Sheridan."

Delenn gracefully extricated herself from the unwilling triangle and walked up the stairs and into the lift. And John felt relief and pride at his Minbari mate, if not a heavy dose of sadness. As long as this thing with Anna was unresolved, she would never allow herself to be with him. And nor should she. For the first time since Anna arrived, he truly understood what Delenn would be giving up if she continued with him while his future with Anna was so unsure.

He didn't want her to have to atone for a thing. It wasn't right; she did nothing wrong. Point of fact, neither had he. How can everyone be innocent while harboring so much guilt? He didn't know, but thinking about Delenn and turning his eyes to Anna, John sure felt a wheat field dose of guilt, enough to feed the entire station.

"It's not safe for you to be out so late. Let me walk you back to your quarters." He took her arm and escorted her to the lift, shrugging off the urge to catch up to Delenn and see her safely to her quarters as well. Then again, he fought to convince himself, no one would be so stupid as to hurt Ranger One. Between himself, Lennier, and Marcus, the perpetrator wouldn't make it off the station in one piece. Still, John couldn't shake the feeling of putting Anna before Delenn.

**Part 2**

They walked in silence, John's mind on what he and Delenn had discovered about Sector 86 and the surprise she alluded to.

They stopped in front of her quarters and Anna gave him that smile again, the one that made him squirm with discomfort.

"So, your Delenn is pretty."

He wasn't going to take that bait. John knew very well that Delenn was pretty; hell, she was gorgeous and damn sexy— in and out of her robes.

"ISN said she went through some kind of change to make her look the way she does now—part Human, part Minbari."

John narrowed his eyes at her, waiting for the insult he felt coming. The Anna he remembered was as pro-Earth, pro-Human, as they come. Like most Humans, she bought into the war office's propaganda about the cold, unfeeling Minbari. It made being a soldier—fighting the good fight—easier when your wife supported such ideologies. But John had grown—even evolved—since then, shedding antiquated and erroneous beliefs about races of all sorts. The question was, had Anna?

After a lengthy pause, she shrugged. "I guess it's kind of like creating a new identity for yourself. I'm sure she's the same in many ways but also very different from the self she's always known. I wonder when she looks into the mirror if she still recognizes herself."

John relaxed, seeing the self-analysis reflected in Anna's words. How must it feel to gaze upon oneself without true recognition? He couldn't imagine, nor could he envision Delenn and Anna having anything other than him in common, but they did. The thought was pathetically sobering—like being pelted with an ice ball while drunk.

"She's also very quiet. She barely said a word. I thought, considering what's going on, that she would have tons to say." Anna gave another shrug of her thin shoulders. "Maybe it's a Minbari thing. I don't pretend to understand them."

"It's not a 'Minbari thing,' he said, too exhausted to have the conversation Anna obviously had in mind.

"Why don't you turn in for the night and we can talk more tomorrow."

"You'll speak with me, but not about what I want to discuss."

"I agreed to spend more time with you, Anna, to see what still exists between us. I didn't, however, consent to tell you about Delenn."

Anna crossed her arms across her chest, and gave him her best stubborn glare.

"You're right, we've spent time together. We've talked and you've filled in the last few years of your life for me and I've done the same."

Okay, that was something. At least she admitted he'd upheld his part of the bargain. So why was she still throwing those red, hot daggers his way?

"Why won't you tell me about the two of you? If she's so important in your life, then why won't you explain what hold she has over you?"

John scoffed back a harsh laugh. "I won't talk about Delenn because it's none of your business; it's private. And as far as the "hold" she has over me, you really don't want to hear it. But it's definitely not the type of demeaning hold I believe you mean, or the one reported on ISN. I thought you smarter than to take such prejudiced reporting to heart."

Anna shook her head and reached for his arm. "I didn't . . . that wasn't my intent. I've just never known you to be so tight lip about someone or something that means so much to you."

"Anna, listen," he said, wondering how polygamist did it, managing the emotions of more than one woman without committing suicide or murder, "Delenn is a very private person and I would never violate her trust by speaking about her to someone she doesn't know."

She squeezed his arm, and then slowly slid it up to his shoulder, moving closer to him as she did so.

"You're very protective of her. I understand, John. That's the type of man you are, why I fell in love with you. You have a heart the size of this entire station."

Anna stood on tiptoe, and leaned into him, the way she did in his office more than a week ago. She smelled as wonderful then as she did now, and her touch was tender, seductively so.

He felt her lips press to his chin, his cheek, and he was immobilized by some distant memory of love and lust. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him to her, and then she kissed him—lightly, cautiously.

John froze, unable to respond, his lips pressed to hers but unmoving, his hands limp at his side. Slowly, he raised his arms, taking hold of the hands around his neck, and removing them. Once free of her boa constrictor like grip and the debilitating fog of unresolved memories, John stepped back.

The look on Anna's beautiful, pale face was nothing short of embarrassed and hurt. And the last thing John wanted to do was hurt her. But he also wouldn't lead her on, take the offered pleasure because it was familiar, comfortable, easy. And then there was Delenn.

"I didn't mean to overstep. I didn't really think—''

"That I loved her because she's Minbari," he finished.

Her embarrassment turned to shame, her silence his answer.

"You should know I would never marry someone I didn't truly love."

This was difficult for him to say, not the admission of his love for Delenn but the implication that he no longer loved her. He did still love her but until she kissed him, he didn't realize that it was no longer a romantic kind of love.

Yet, none of this seemed to matter. No, that wasn't true. When Anna first arrived, his mind and emotions were twisted in such a mass of knots that it had taken him more than a week to untangle them. And now that he had, did any of it amount to a solution?

"We're still married," she said, face taut, eyes hooded.

"That's probably true, and if it is, she won't—'' He stopped himself. Words have meaning and he refused to speak them.

"She ended it," Anna said, as if she'd just completed a mystery puzzle. "I thought she would argue, disagree . . . something. I even had visions of an enraged Minbari confronting me."

This almost made John laugh, but there was no humor to be found in the quiet of the still corridor.

"She would never do that. Delenn accepts our marriage, recognizes you as my wife, despite our own wedding less than two weeks ago."

"You blame me?"

John shook his head. "No, I'll take two doses of this, if it means you're alive. I just . . . wish things were different. That's all."

Bed was calling him. Too bad, it was an empty one, for nothing would be better than to return to his quarters to a waiting Delenn. Hell, even one of her rituals sounded good to him about now. But none of that was to be.

She said they were still partners, and as partners, they'd made a great leap today in the war effort. Tomorrow, they would move forward, taking on the roles they were destined to perform. And in the hectic barrage of politics and strategy, Delenn and John will give way to Captain and Entil'zha. That was the way of things, the universe too large and powerful to be concerned with their inconsequential love life. And where would that leave them—the man and woman?

John watched Anna as she keyed in her door code and enter the room. She was still as lovely as the first day they'd met, the day he proposed, the day they wed. And she was his wife, the woman he'd sworn to love for eternity. But she was no longer the keeper of his soul. No, that honor belonged to another, one who couldn't accept it. Life was truly one big ball of asteroid crap, made worse by the Shadow plague that sought to subjugate them all.

And soon, he would have to fight. They all would have to fight, his partner in battle, in prophecy, but nothing more, not now, perhaps not ever.

"Good night, Anna."

"Good night, John."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	8. Chapter 8: Shadow Dancing

**Chapter 7: Shadow Dancing**

**Part 1**

Four days ago, everything changed in the war with the Shadows. Sector 83 was their next likely point of attack, and it would be brutal if they succeeded.

_Now that we know what the Shadows have in mind . . . we have an advantage for the first time. We can rally all the other races, prepare to launch a major counterattack. I thought you might like to know what resources you have._

_White Star was never intended to be one of a kind. It was the first. We've been working around the clock to construct them. I said we needed time to prepare. This is why._

_The first wave of ships is finished at last. The Rangers will pilot them under our shared command. We are as ready for them as we will ever be. We finally have, as you say, a fighting chance._

The sight from the deck of the White Star was extraordinary to a man destined to lead this war, but not knowing how he could possibly win. Beautiful sleek ships positioned against the dark universe reminded John of the way stars would twinkle in the night, humbly exquisite as one, powerfully magnificent all together.

And he turned to her then, the woman who made it all possible. He was positive his mouth opened, and even more certain few intelligible words came out. He wanted to thank Delenn, wanted to crush her body to his and ravish her mouth in front of all those Minbari manning the ship. More importantly, he wished to tell her how much he loved her, how he would make everything up to her, and that while the present was cast in shadows, tomorrow would be drenched in light. Their light.

John ran a worried hand through his brown hair, feeling older than he had when he dragged himself out of bed this morning. Susan and Marcus were in his quarters, at his request, loyal soldiers—Earthforce and Minbari trained. What better two for the most dangerous of missions?

He hated what he was about to ask of them. But in war, with soldiers, there was no such thing as a benchwarmer. Everyone played, everyone saw action, everyone was vital to the success or failure of the team—rookie and veteran alike.

"So we don't have a lot of time," John said to the seated pair. "The Shadows have been driving refugees and support ships into Sector 83 for two months now. My guess is when enough of these ships are in one place, the enemy will hit them, and hit them hard."

"Which would demoralize all sides," Ivanova said, drawing the same conclusion Delenn had when she realized the ploy.

"The number of refugees escaping into Sector 83 has dropped off considerably for the past few days. So, they may strike anytime now. That "anytime now" could be today, tomorrow, a few days from now."

"If we wait until we hear about an attack," Marcus chimed in, "it'll be too late to strike back. They'll be long gone by the time we get there."

Exactly the reaction John expected from the two of them. He'd chosen wisely, the Ranger and the Commander already gleaming the import of his and Delenn's discovery and battle plan.

"Delenn is working out that part right now," John informed. "We'll have as many ships as we can standing by in hyperspace."

And this was a great example of their partnership—John as military strategist and Delenn as diplomat, political negotiator. He figured she was - at this very moment – in the council chamber arguing down any ambassador unwilling to lend ships and fighters to the cause—everyone's cause.

"But for this to work," John gave Marcus and Susan a pointed look, "we have to know the second the enemy shows up. That means having an advance scout on patrol in that area. One ship. Any more would draw attention, and they might change their plans."

"And that ship?" Ivanova asked, but her voice and concerned eyes told John she already knew the answer.

"That would be us," she finished, answering the rhetorical question.

Marcus' silence said he understood where this conversation was going, his deep brown eyes looking to John for confirmation.

"You are to enter Sector 83 and maintain radio silence until the enemy comes out of hyperspace. Now they may come out all at once . . . or in small groups. Either way, as soon as you see them, notify the fleet and get the hell out of there."

His teeth gritted, emphasizing his command and unshielded angst. They both nodded.

"You are not—I repeat—not to engage their forces unless fired upon."

Hands clasped firmly behind his back, he walked towards the two soldiers, clad in their individual and unique black uniforms, representing two halves of the same unified coin.

"Now, if that should happen, do what you have to do. But get out fast."

Marcus nodded and said, "Understood. Anything else?"

"We've all seen how fast those ships can move. If they see you before you can escape . . ."

Marcus swung his gaze to a knowing Susan.

"You'll take the White Star. It's the fastest ship we got. You'll need it. 'Cause even if everything goes right our best guess is that you've only got a 50-50 chance of getting back alive."

The silent truth of what he'd just asked them to do, and the question of their survival, slithered down John's spine like an unwanted snake in a rabbit's hole.

The pair exited, their fate not yet known, and John soon followed, walking in the opposite direction, his path, his destiny intersecting with theirs while diverging with a foreboding he couldn't explain.

**Part 2**

Like a caged lion, John paced from one side of his office to the other—waiting. Lieutenant Corwin informed him of Mr. Garibaldi's estimated time of arrival. ETA: thirty minutes. It was now twice that time. John couldn't wait much longer – as it was- Delenn was awaiting his arrival at her quarters so they could take a shuttle to her war cruiser, the one with the special 'tactical center,' as she'd told him.

_Not now. I don't need this distraction now_, he told himself, compelling the image of Delenn to go away. He would see her soon enough. If things went poorly out there, they would die together. As morbid as that thought was, it soothed a part of him. But he wasn't ready to die, and he sure as hell wouldn't let any harm come to Delenn.

"Sorry about being late, Captain," Garibaldi said, breezing into John's office, uniform crisply tailored, hands in pockets. He looked none-the-worse-for-wear, having spent two weeks traveling from the station to the Proxima System and back. All in record speed, back in time for the biggest battle in both of their lifetimes. John was indeed glad to see him—an ally, a friend.

"Nice to see you made it back safely, Michael. I take it you have news for me."

"You bet I do. It seems the people on Proxima like to talk."

He remained standing. His posture was relaxed but his eyes shouted exhaustion. But Garibaldi was a soldier like himself, not giving into the inconvenience of sleep deprivation. He was sent on a personal mission and he'd returned with the spoils of said assignment.

"And what did they have to say?"

Garibaldi removed one hand from his pocket and slowly ran it from mouth to chin.

"Are you sure you want to hear this now? On my way in, I heard we're about to take it to the Shadows. I assume you and Delenn are on speaking terms again."

"Yeah, she's really chatty," he said with a sarcastic lilt to his voice, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. "Just get to it already, Michael, she's waiting for me. And I don't want to be late for the dance."

"Got you. Well, there was some shady stuff going on at the hospital that tended to Anna."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember how we both questioned why her attending physician didn't run a Jane Doe on her, testing her blood against Earth's database?"

John nodded.

"Apparently the blood was drawn and test submitted for approval."

"That's normal procedure. What happened?"

The second hand slipped from Garibaldi's pocket and over his bald head.

"The hospital doesn't have all the fancy tech of larger, better financed medical facilities. So, all special tests or exams must be pre-approved by the medical chief. The chief –in turn- either approves or denies the claim. If approved, he has the test run and charges the insurance company."

That sounded right to John, but it had to be otherwise, for why else would Michael waste his time explaining it all to him?

"Now here's where it gets interesting. Dr. Hill, the medical chief, was pocketing the fees he charged for the tests he denied. And to make matters worse, he forged some test results, not having the decency to run the tests."

The face that had been initially curious now turned into a deep-set frown. John knew where this was going.

"After several patients died from illnesses they weren't supposed to have, an investigation ensued."

Now it was John who ran a hand over his face then head. "Let me guess, the good doctor forged those test results, the unknowing patients went home thinking they had a clean bill of health and died because they didn't get the care they required."

"You got it. After a thorough investigation, all the dirt came to the surface. It took the investigators another month to cross-check all of Dr. Hill's files against the claims he made to the insurance companies."

"I assume Anna's file was one of the fraudulent ones."

Garibaldi nodded.

"He never actually sent the samples to the proper medical technician. A fifteen-minute computer test was all that it would have taken. But the son-of-a-bitch couldn't even do that. Instead, he sent a letter to Dr. Daniel Montgomery informing him there was no record on file that matched Jane Doe's blood."

"No one knew who she was—meaning she had no insurance and Dr. Hill could make no money off her," John growled, his hands balling into fists, wishing he could do bodily harm to the man.

"Right, he was a piece of work, now doing time in a very small cell for fraud, malpractice, and involuntary manslaughter."

"It sounds like he did a lot of damage. So what happened with Anna's case?"

"All the tests were finally run and new, accurate results sent to the patients. That's how she found out who she was."

John tried to create a timeline of events in his head, mulling over all Michael had just said. He wondered if the results came first or the dream that heralded her return of memory.

Garibaldi suddenly appeared morose, and John knew he didn't want to hear his next words.

"Here's the thing, John, that was two years ago."

"What? No, no, you must be mistaken." But he knew he wasn't. Garibaldi was an excellent security chief and that meant he was the finest at unearthing what people wanted to keep hidden.

"If you have a few minutes, there's more."

John nodded to the chairs in front of his desk. "Perhaps we should sit, Mr. Garibaldi. I'll call Delenn and let her know I'll be a few minutes more. Hopefully, Susan and Marcus haven't encountered the Shadows just yet."

**Part 3**

Delenn and John entered the tactical center of the Minbari war cruiser. It had been several hours since Marcus and Susan entered Sector 83, and the same amount of time since she'd convinced the League nations to provide as many ships as they could spare. They'd put the safety of their Homeworlds and its citizens in her hands, trusting her and John to lead them to victory.

Not since serving on the Grey Council during the Earth/Minbari War, had Delenn felt this level of stress induced intensity. The welfare of millions depended on her and John's decisions, their insight, their partnership. Yet, she found comfort that they were the right people, at the right time, in the right place.

The tactical center was shadowed in near darkness, its grid lines visible but no image displayed.

"They can hear me from here?" John asked, looking around, clearly having neither seen such a hub in Earthforce. But that was to be expected, Minbari technology dwarfing that of the younger races.

"Yes," she answered, enjoying the childlike way he surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings.

They waited several minutes more, neither one venturing to fill the silence with words. Delenn closed her eyes, using the time to center herself through prayer. She pushed all thoughts of the last two weeks from her mind, purging her system of distracting emotions. Ten minutes later, she opened her eyes; it was time.

"This is Captain John Sheridan to attack fleet. Have your telepaths start jamming their capital ships. Fighters, take point. They've put escort ships in front, between our telepaths and their big ships. Take them out anyway you can and clear the way. Sunhawks and other medium-class ships, provide escorts for our big guns. Everyone else, break and attack."

It was unlike anything Delenn had ever seen before. Disparate worlds the galaxy over unified—one mind, one goal, the same enemy. And the attack lights blazed in an inglorious illumination of red, blue, yellow, green, and silver. All colors of the spectrum bolting through the hazy universe and capturing lives in their death glare.

"They're trying to outflank us," she said, critical eyes scouring the battlefield for advantage or weakness.

"Carrier groups, come about and engage."

"Drazi ships are surrounded."

"Minbari cruiser, _Enfili_, pull back, protect the Drazi."

And so it went, the dance of their lives—dips, free spins, and pirouettes, the universe and fate their only audience. And when the curtain fell on their ballet of destruction, there were no shouts of 'Bravo,' or rose petals thrown onto the stage. No, the dance was over but there was no happy ending, debris of destroyed ships and lost lives scattered the stage instead.

John looked at her, his eyes as somber as her soul. His arms swathed her in its strength of understanding. And they held each other, no words spoken, none needed.

An hour later, they were back on Babylon 5, lives lost, lives saved.

"So how did it go out there?" Mr. Garibaldi asked as they made their way through the living and dying carnage that was docking bay 10.

"We did okay. Not great," John answered, "but okay. We turned back their attack but lost ships."

"For every one of their ships killed, two of ours was destroyed," Delenn said, her voice brisk, business like, too focused on what would come next to allow her mind, her heart to grieve.

Marcus and Susan made their way through the throng of injured tended to by the station's medical personnel. Delenn was pleased to see the commander and Ranger; pleased that they'd survived when so many others had perished.

"This time we had the advantage," Marcus conceded, "We knew where they'd attack. Next time we won't be so lucky."

"Still, it's the first time we managed to bring all the League worlds together into a fighting force. That counts for a lot," Susan said.

Delenn agreed, remembering the effort it had taken to get the other ambassadors to hold fast and trust her, trust them all. In spite of the losses, or perhaps because of them, she was pleased at what they had accomplished this day. It was only a beginning, but a powerful one, a dangerous position to find oneself.

Mr. Garibaldi hunched his shoulders and asked, "So here's the big question. Now we've shown them we can hurt them, how long till they come knocking at our front door?"

"That's what worries me," John replied, leading Delenn away from the crowd and to his office, followed by Susan.

She and Susan stood in front of John's desk, the three of them assessing their current war standing.

The adrenaline was starting to fade, the stench of death heavy on her ambassadorial robes.

"I've been giving a lot of thought to Garibaldi's question," John began, his eyes moving between her and the commander. "We have done all we can to keep a low profile. But the enemy has just taken a big loss. And they've got to know we're responsible. It's only a matter of time before they come after us. The only questions are how and when."

"Perhaps they're reluctant to try," Delenn said. "Draal has made the Great Machine on the planet below available to our defenses. I suspect his weapons could stop even a Shadow vessel."

"Maybe," Susan said, looking doubtful. "But that's the odd thing about this. They could have hit us at any time during the last year. We're a sitting duck."

"So, what are you saying?" John asked. "They're deliberately leaving us alone?"

"It's possible. They haven't been shy about hitting anybody else around here." Susan shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "And if that's true, the obvious question is why?"

Delenn couldn't help but wonder the same.

"We should expect something to be coming our way sooner or later," John said, his visage grim but determined. "And the way our luck works, it'll probably be sooner."

Susan left and Delenn turned to do the same.

"Wait," John called, "don't go."

She turned and the light in his eyes told her he wanted to talk. She, on the other hand, did not. It took all her reserve to swallow her pain when she made her way to his office earlier in the day to see what was keeping him. He was holding Anna—his wife. Delenn slipped from the room before she was seen, making her way to the docking bay to await John's arrival and piece together her broken heart.

Now he wanted to talk. She had nothing to say.

"I'm tired, John."

"I know; so am I. I just wanted to give you something."

He moved to her, his eyes alight with tender warmth. John took her left hand, pulled it palm up, placed a data crystal in the center, and closed her fingers around it.

Before she could speak, ask the obvious question, he spoke. "Go back to your quarters, take a rejuvenating shower, pray, and then view the contents of the data crystal."

She wanted to argue or run, but had neither the energy nor willpower to do either. So she closed her hand around the crystal.

"I'll be in my quarters if you want to talk later."

He leaned in and whispered.

"I hope you will."

She finally exited his office and shook her head. She couldn't imagine what could be on the data crystal that would cause her to go to his quarters. But a shower, prayer, and sleep sounded like an excellent idea. The data crystal could wait until morning.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	9. Chapter 9: Ghostly Truths

**Chapter 8: Ghostly Truths**

**Part 1**

Anna sauntered into her quarters, escaping the hum of post-battle chatter. The station was abuzz. Sector 83, White Stars, the League, and, of course, Captain Sheridan and Ambassador Delenn were on everyone's lips. Much of the talk was positive - glowing even - about how the league's forces held their own against the scarily powerful Shadows. Yet underneath the tough, brave talk, was a veneer of fear. Fear that the Shadows would make Babylon 5 their next target and nothing in the universe could prevent its destruction, not even John Sheridan.

She made her way into the small bedroom, its white and brown décor devoid of warmth or character. The bland walls and depersonalized quarters reminded Anna of a time when everything in her world was that way. For so long, she viewed her existence through a lens that lacked personality, individuality, and nuance. And she was afraid, afraid of never being able to remember, afraid of what she would remember when the time came. And the time had come and she wasn't prepared for the revelation or her reaction.

Her burgundy suitcase, the one Daniel purchased specially for this journey, peeked out from under the bed. She leaned down, slid it out from its hiding place, and thumped it onto the mattress. The boarding tag read, 'Melissa Gilbert'. She hadn't been that woman since loading herself onto the shuttle for Babylon 5.

Now, however, as she gazed at the picture of Daniel –the one he snuggled between the pages of her favorite book- Anna couldn't help but wonder if she made the right decision in leaving Proxima 3 in search of a distant dream.

Anna suppressed the tears of a woman who'd taken a leap of faith, or perhaps a plunge of naivety, and ended up free falling into the swelling darkness of lost love.

As she gathered the few belongings she brought with her, her mind wandered to the conversation she'd had yesterday with John in his office. Anna knew he was busy preparing for the battle, but she had to see him. On Mercury's wings, she rushed along the too bright corridors, hoping to have a word with him before he put his life in danger.

A bald man passed her when she entered. He gave her a quick, probing look, placed his hands in his pockets, and left with a nod and a brisk, "Mrs. Sheridan."

Five minutes later, Anna knew precisely who the bald man was and what he'd been doing, for the last two weeks, while she'd been trying to reclaim her marriage.

"Two years, Anna," John said, his eyes registering anger, hurt. "Why in the hell didn't you contact me before now? Do you know what I went through thinking you were dead? How much one message from you would've done for me, spared me?"

He settled his bottom against his desk, long legs crossed at the ankles, hands gripping the wooden edge, face taut.

"I was confused. It was too much, too soon. I'd finally accepted that I was Melissa Gilbert and not some stranger in the mirror."

She should've told him all from the beginning. He should not have had to send his security chief to Proxima 3 to discover what she could've freely offered up. How could she have expected him to open his arms and heart to her when there were lies between them?

Anna was tempted to look away from the hard stare boring into her, but she'd come this far. She'd survived the attack on the _Icarus_, loss of family and self, and the cold, biting truth. He no longer loved or wanted her. He was truly and deeply in love with Delenn.

She refused to believe it, how could a Minbari be what he desired? They were so different, from formerly warring worlds. Yet the eyes never lie, only the mind, the heart. When she finally saw them together in the War Room, the tide of suppressed affection between them was obvious, painfully so.

Anna wanted to strike out at the Minbari, bait her into showing her true colors to John. Minbaris were quietly manipulative, keeping their secrets hidden behind rituals and prayers. Right? Wrong. Looking at the woman, who met her gaze with respectful pride, Anna glimpsed her inner strength and humility.

Delenn was John's equal and opposite, the way she used to be, but was no longer. He'd grown and so had she. Too much so to ever go back.

"Why didn't you contact me?" he asked again, his voice much softer than before, the grip on the desk relaxed.

She moved closer, sitting next to him, their hands close but not touching.

"Try to understand, John. When I received the results from the investigators, it was just a name and biography. My memory still hadn't returned. And no matter how many times I read the report and tried to envision the life outlined, I just couldn't. It was as if there was a huge impenetrable wall in my mind that I couldn't blast away to get to the other side."

"I get that but—''

"I wouldn't have recognized you. There was a picture of you and my parents in the file, and it was like viewing three strangers with radiant smiles. People who I should know, but I couldn't conjure up the slightest hint of recognition."

The hand next to Anna tensed then relaxed again.

"You have no clue, Anna. None of us would've cared about the memory loss. Having you back, even partly, would've been better than nothing. Better than allowing us to believe you were dead."

He was right. But she'd been through so much. He didn't understand. No one did, except Daniel.

"Over time, you would've come to care, especially if my memory never returned. What kind of marriage would we have had? What kind of wife could I have been to you?"

"I wouldn't have expected anything you wasn't prepared to give. We could've taken it slow, gotten to know each other again. Hell, Anna, you didn't give me a chance to do right by you."

He faced her then. "It took me a long while to fall for Delenn. For so long we were just friends and I doggedly refused to allow myself to consider anything more. Do you know why?"

God help her, she knew.

"Because a part of me was still in love with you. Every time I felt myself drawing closer to her, wanting to explore the feelings she aroused in me, I felt guilty, as if I was somehow betraying you, your memory."

"You obviously got past that." It came out harsh, if not, scornful. That wasn't her intent, but this was hard for her as well.

"In Minbari culture, there is a ritual for damn near everything. They don't rush into relationships the way we tend to do. They take it slow, giving the couple every opportunity to find out if the path they have chosen to walk together is the right one for them."

"Meaning what, John?"

"Meaning, you should've contacted me. Meaning, you could've prevented this entire situation we've found ourselves in for the last two weeks."

He stood then, his tall, lean body dwarfing her own. She stood as well, taking in his serious expression –the one that forecast an overcast sky and chance of thunderstorms.

"Did your relationship with Dr. Daniel Montgomery have anything to do with your decision?"

Michael Garibaldi was a thorough detective indeed. Not that Daniel or anyone at the hospital would have cause to be deceptive.

"He was my doctor and we spent a lot of time together. He helped me when I couldn't help myself."

"So you fell for him." It was a statement. John clearly knew all about her relationship with Daniel.

"Yes, I moved in with him right before the mess with Dr. Hill. And I assume Daniel told your Mr. Garibaldi about our engagement."

"Yeah, that was a real shocker." Now he sounded harsh, if not, scornful. "You have a lot of nerve, Anna, coming here intent on screwing up my marriage to Delenn when you have an engagement ring stashed away somewhere from a man you've been bedding for God's know how long."

His voice rose, angered flared, and he stepped away from her.

She'd been a fool.

"That's the real reason why you didn't contact me. Why put me out of my misery when you have a doctor who can take care of all your needs." He glared at her, the temperature in the room rising. "Am I right?"

The urge to fight or flee welled in her, but she squashed the natural response. She owed him the truth. She owed herself even more.

"Daniel is very special to me. I wouldn't do anything to hurt him."

"Do you love him?"

"I thought I did."

"Thought?"

She shrugged, hating to admit to such uncertainty.

"I planned to marry him. It just didn't seem fair to come back to you with no memory of our marriage, while harboring feelings for another man."

"But the return of your memories changed your mind."

"Yes. I remembered everything. All the love I had for you and you for me. I didn't know what to do."

He moved around her and settled against the desk again, his anger temporarily abated.

She spoke, her back still to him. "I couldn't marry him without first seeing and speaking with you. I had to know." She spun around then, facing him, coming to terms with her own actions. "I needed to know if I still truly loved you, if my feelings for Daniel would remain after coming face-to-face with my husband."

John snorted and shook his head. "That was wrong on so many levels, Anna."

Unexpectedly, he pulled her into an embrace, stroking the long, loose, red hair that flowed down her back to her waist.

"I don't blame you for finding solace in the arms of another man, especially one as kind and caring as this Daniel seems to be. I just wish you could've been honest with me, came to me when you first learned who you were."

He shrugged then let her go. "Who knows, things could've ended differently between us."

She'd already drawn the same conclusion. Her fear, her confusion, and her uncertainty had ended their marriage, not Ambassador Delenn who she'd unfairly blamed.

"So," John said, "what are you going to do now?"

**Part 2**

All day he'd waited and nothing, not a visit, or a call, or even a message, nothing from Delenn. John was sure she would seek him out after viewing the data crystal provided by Mr. Garibaldi. His entire mission report was on the crystal. Surely, she had to understand the meaning of its content.

"You called, Captain," Ivanova said when she entered his office.

"Yes, I was wondering if you've seen Ambassador Delenn."

She gave him an annoyed look. "Well, I can tell you with certainty that she's definitely not in my back pocket, if I had pants pockets, which I don't."

He returned her annoyed look and raised her a put-out glower.

She raised her arms then slapped them to her side. "How am I supposed to know where Delenn is? She doesn't run her daily itinerary through me. Have you checked with Lennier?"

"Of course I've checked with him."

In fact, John had interrupted the man's breakfast and lunch to do so. The conversation was polite in its coldness, earning him nothing more than, "She has a full schedule today. I'm sure she'll contact you as soon as time permits." Meaning, go jump in the nearest black hole for all I care.

"He was of no use. I was hoping you knew something I didn't. Nothing on this station gets by your discerning eyes and ears."

She huffed. "Don't try to sweet talk me. Besides, if Delenn doesn't want to be found, she won't be. Hell, if she really wanted to avoid you, she could simply shuttle over to one of the war cruisers."

"Thanks a lot, Susan; you sure know how to comfort a guy."

But it was true. She'd done it before. But why would she do so now. The data crystal should've cleared everything up for her. Why was she avoiding him?

Ivanova waved her last statement away. "She's still on the station, John. I haven't approved any shuttle runs for her White Star. It's still docked. If she's not in her quarters, council chambers, or with another ambassador, where would she go if she wanted some peace and quiet?"

John grabbed and kissed Susan on the cheek, his smile bigger than her wide-eyed surprise. "You're a lifesaver," he said, running from the office.

She sat on the bench in the east corner of the garden—their bench, their garden. They hadn't had time to visit the magnificent blooms in far too long, but here she sat – by herself- appearing much too solemn for him to reconcile.

"I've been looking for you all day," he said, not wanting to frighten her with his approach, so deep in thought she may not have heard his footfalls until he was right next to her.

She turned, her somber gaze settling on him. "I assumed you would find me eventually." Delenn resumed her position, taking in the brilliant red, yellow, and blue roses.

Cautiously, John filled the other half of the bench, unsure what was going on with her.

"Did you have a chance to look at the data crystal?" he finally asked, seeing Delenn had no intention of offering up any conversation of her own.

She nodded then an almost imperceptible sigh came from her.

"Maybe you didn't quite understand what Michael found." He had to make her understand. Earth laws were complicated and had to be doubly so for a non-Human.

"I'm sure I understand perfectly, John."

Clearly she didn't, for if she had they would be in one of their quarters right now, finishing the last Minbari mating ritual and getting on with the business of consummating their marriage.

Ignoring her claims of full comprehension, John plowed on. "Michael's lawyer friend found out that Anna's parents filed a claim asking Earthgov to continue their investigation into her disappearance or grant their family attorney access to the _Icarus's_ last records. They intended to sue them for negligence, convinced there was something faulty about the ship or the mission itself."

"John—''

"Instead, Earthgov closed the case, declaring Anna and all the passengers aboard the ship dead. They nicely compensated each family, as if money could replace their loved one. With me out here in no-man's-land, I didn't know. My former in-laws were unable to get a message to me."

"John—'' Delenn tried again, but he wasn't done.

"Don't you see what this means, honey? That was almost nine months ago. When I married you, as far as my government was concerned, I was in my legal right to do so. Our marriage is legally binding. Even by Minbari standards, morality was on our side when we wed. There is nothing to stop our union now."

Still, she said nothing and he felt like pounding his head against the bench. What in the hell was wrong with her? Why wasn't she as pleased about this as he was? Why weren't they wrapped around each other, making a spectacle of themselves?

"We finally cleared the air," he said, not knowing what to do except to keep talking. "She plans to go home and see her parents."

"And what will she do when she gets there, John?"

"Umm . . . I don't understand."

She stood and walked towards the gardenias, her red and blue robe swaying about her delicate ankles. He followed, wanting to grab and shake some sense into her.

Finally, she faced him and he saw . . . Hell, he didn't know. Her eyes were morbidly dark and grim, reminding him of the way she looked at him when he returned to his quarters after learning of Anna's return. There was a forced coldness there.

"She will reclaim her name, her place in her family, her identity."

"Of course."

She gave him a look that said he was missing the obvious, and then she sighed once more.

"Even on Minbar, John, the Grey Council doesn't have the power to declare a Minbari dead. That is the exclusive right of the clan. From what I understand, Earth's laws are no different. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, seven years would have to first elapse, or the next of kin would have to make a claim. In your case neither occurred."

"What are you getting at, Delenn?" he asked, but already knowing, the last granule of sands of their relationship slipping through his fingers.

She closed her eyes for a second, and then opened them, the forced coldness gone, replaced by something far worse—resignation.

"Your government circumvented their own laws when they made that declaration. Once she returns home, Earthgov will have no choice but to rescind the death declaration and restore all that came before—including her marriage certificate. I don't know why they did it, perhaps to punish you. But the motive matters not. She is still your wife, John, and the details gathered by Michael only prove what we already know."

How in the hell had she boiled a seemingly straightforward mission report down to a broth of cruel ghastly truths? More importantly, how on this side of the rim could he have not drawn the same pathetic conclusion? Even a divorce wouldn't do. Everything was tainted. There was no way to un-ring the bell of Anna's resurrection.

A warm hand touched his cheek, and a wan smile greeted his anguished eyes. John knew this would be the last time she would ever touch him like this, reveal her love for him so openly, with the vulnerability she could entrust to only him.

She caressed his cheek and he held her hand to his face, forcing back the futile plea for her to reconsider. Nothing had changed. For all he now knew, for the reconciliation of his feelings for Anna and hers for him, and the knowledge that she would eventually go back to Proxima 3 and to Dr. Montgomery, none of that altered one thing between himself and Delenn. And there was no one to blame, not even the pencil pushing assholes at Earthgov who expedited the fraudulent death certificate.

There was so much he wanted to say to her, but none of it would he utter. He'd been holding on too tight, refusing to accept the inevitable, and now it was time for him to let her go. John released her hand and she stepped away. Delenn gave him a deep bow, one that spoke louder than the bone-chilling silence of the garden walls. He bowed in return; she nodded, and walked away.

And her parting gift reached him through the stale, depressing air.

"I love you, John Sheridan. You are my heart, my soul."

**Part 3**

Anna took one last look around the quarters, making sure she'd packed everything. It was done. All she needed to do was put the past firmly in its place, and step into the future. And for the first time, in a long while, she'd felt free to do so honestly and completely.

The door chimed. She wasn't expecting anyone. Perhaps John had come to see her off. That would be nice. In spite of everything, she believed they could be friends. Maybe one day, she would even have the opportunity to get to know Delenn better.

"Come in," Anna said, turning to retrieve her identification card from the counter top.

The door slid open and she could hear footsteps. She turned and dropped the card.

A man stood before her, but not John. He wore a dark gray suit with a black turtle-neck shirt with gold necklaces accenting the bad-boy business casual look. Dark, slicked back hair revealed a familiar face from the past.

"Morden."

He smiled. His eyes twinkled, glittered even. And in that instant, Anna shivered, her instincts telling her this wasn't the same man who loaded her into the life-pod all those years ago.

"What are you doing here? How did you know I was here?" she asked, moving around to the other side of the dining room table, needing to put as much distance between them as she could.

He gave her that smile again, the one that echoed a much darker nature.

"I didn't come for you. I had no idea you were even still alive."

His voice was like a hypnotist, all smooth velvet and subtle manipulation.

"I came to speak with your husband but then I saw you coming from his office yesterday. You looked upset. Is there anything an old friend can do to help?"

_Yeah, get the hell out of my way so I can leave._

She shook her head.

"Pity, but there is something you can do for me. I think the offer would go over much better if it came from you."

Morden moved further into the room, nearing the table. His calm, calculating eyes disturbed her more so than his sudden appearance on the station.

"I thought you and the others were dead, Morden. How did you survive?"

Another smile. She used to think his smile to be one of his most alluring features, now it made her want to crawl inside her skin.

"I was saved."

"Who saved you?"

"You will meet them soon enough, my dear Anna. They will be quite pleased to know of your existence and connection to Sheridan."

She glanced past him and to the door, trying to figure out if she could reach it before he stopped her. Was she being crazy, paranoid even? He hadn't threatened her. In fact, he'd saved her life. Still, something wasn't right with him and she didn't understand his interest in John.

"Why don't you let me call John. I'm sure he'll make time to speak with us, hear about the kind people who rescued you."

Another blasted smile.

"He knows all about my friends. Or thinks he does. They are anxious to speak with him, make their case. But you," he said, strolling closer, "are a wonderful surprise. You will serve the cause well. He will come now."

She spared another glance to the door. She might just be able to make it.

"They sent me, hoping I could convince him to see the error of his ways, the futility of this war. He cannot think he and a motley crew of aliens can defeat the Shadows."

_Shadows?_

She bolted for the door, her mind bellowed _Stay away from me!_

Morden caught her from behind, her long hair betraying its mistress. He yanked her away from the door, a fist full of hair straining against her neck.

"You will do exactly as I instruct, or my friends will jump out of hyperspace and destroy this entire station and all its occupants, including your precious husband."

He slung her to the sofa, the gentle mask of humanity gone. He had been her friend, an intelligent scientist with dreams as big as her own. Now he was a creature she barely recognized. And what did he and the Shadows want with John?

Morden towered over her, causing her to retreat into the cushions.

"I want you to record a message for your husband, explaining a few things to him. Mainly, that Babylon 5 will be incinerated and you turned over to the Shadows unless he comes to Z'ha'dum."

"They'll kill him if I do that."

"They won't kill him, but," he grabbed her shirt, hauling her to her feet, "I'll kill you myself, here and now, if you don't record the message, exactly as I have it written here."

He shoved a folded sheet of paper into her hand, removed a PPG she hadn't seen before, and gestured toward the Babcom unit.

She vaguely remembered moving, reading the words, or boarding Morden's ship. She was supposed to be on her way home. Now, she was a prisoner, off to the very planet they intended to explore what seemed like a lifetime ago. Then, she thought it would be a wonderful scientific opportunity. Now, she knew otherwise. Nothing awaited her there but darkness and doom. And John would follow her. No matter what had happened between them, he would follow.

**Part 4**

"Delenn . . . by the time you get this message, I will be at Z'ha'dum with Anna."

**TO BE CONCLUDED**


	10. Chapter 10: Death and Life

**Chapter 9: Death and Life**

**Part 1**

"_I can pretty much guess your reaction when you hear this, but I think it's the only way. When you and I were in the time rift with Babylon 4, for a moment . . . I jumped forward in time. We'd won the war but Centauri Prime had been devastated. You said this future couldn't be changed. You also told me: Do not go to Z'ha'dum. I began to wonder: What if that future happened because I listened to your warning and didn't go to Z'ha'dum?"_

"_You see, John, back a million years ago . . . there were forces prowling around the galaxy . . . beyond anything that we could understand. And, like anything else . . . most of them outgrew this little corner of the universe . . . and headed off toward greener pastures. Shepherds, you might call them. They wanted to look after the younger races, bring them around . . . help them evolve into something better. One of these was the Vorlons. The other was what you call the Shadows."_

"_The Vorlons are like your parents, I suppose. They want you to play nice, clean your room, do it by the rules. I guess you could call them "lords of order."_

"_The others, the ones who live here, believe that strength only comes from conflict. They want to release our potential, not bottle it up."_

"_What if . . .? What if I could prevent the fall of Centauri Prime . . . and end the Shadow War by going there? What I want is to stay alive to be with you. But you were right before. This is about more than what I want. So I'm going, even though I know it's almost certainly a trap."_

"_It's really simple. You bring two sides together and they fight. A lot of them die but those who survive are stronger, smarter, and better." "It's like knocking over an anthill. Every new generation gets stronger . . . the anthill gets redesigned, made better."_

"_John, they think that the human race shows great potential. When all this is over, we can be riding high, the first to rebuild, making things our own way. But the only thing that's standing in our way now is you."_

"_Let go of those other races. You can't hold them together. Evolution will be served one way or another."_

"_And I want you to know . . . that I love you, Delenn. Goodbye."_

"_There's nowhere to run. Come back inside, we can work this out."_

"_Jump. Jump. Now!"_

"_I fell, a long way. It seemed to go on forever."_

"_Nothing goes on forever. Not falls, not you, not I . . . not love, not life. Entropy consumes everything. We all hit bottom . . . sooner or later."_

"_During the war I fought Minbari. I killed Minbari. Saw many of my friends die at Minbari hands. Here I am . . . in love with one of them. For a long time I thought about not saying anything, but . . . the moment my heart crossed that line . . . there wasn't much I could do but see it through. Yeah, I've fallen off one hell of a cliff. When I look in her eyes . . . I let myself think, maybe I really can fly."_

"_Who are you? What do you want?"_

"_Tick you're alive. Tock, you're dead. The only way out is to surrender to tock."_

"_Kosh is in you and he's part of the problem. You're the other part. You're both still clinging to life. Both afraid to let go. You must lay down the burden of life, both of you . . . and surrender yourself to tock." _

"_No, I can't. The others need me."_

"_It's not exactly what I had in mind, but . . . It's temporary until I get you a real engagement ring. It's an Earth custom. You see, you give someone you love . . . an engagement ring as a kind of down payment for another ring . . . the kind that you exchange when you get married. I don't know when we'll be able to get to that part of it. We may not survive the next two weeks. But I wanted you to know that whatever time I have left . . . I want to spend it with you."_

"_You can't turn away from death simply because you're afraid . . . of what might happen without you. That's not enough! You're not embracing life. You're fleeing death. So you're caught in between . . . unable to go forward or backward. Your friends need what you can be when you are no longer afraid. When you know who you are, why you are . . . and what you want. When you are no longer looking for reasons to live . . . but can simply be."_

"_I can't. I don't know how to do that."_

"_You must let go, surrender yourself to death—the death of flesh, the death of fear. Step into the abyss . . . and let go."_

"_It's getting darker."_

"_I know."_

"_It's easy to find something worth dying for. Do you have anything worth living for?"_

"_I can't see you anymore."_

"_As it should be."_

"_What if I fall? How will I know if you'll catch me?"_

"_I caught you before."_

"_What if I die?"_

"_I cannot create life . . . but I can breathe on the remaining embers. It may not work." _

"_But I can hope."_

"_Hope is all we have."_

"_Do you have anything worth living for?"_

"_Sleep now. I will watch and catch you if you should fall."_

"_Delenn!"_

**Part 2**

John shifted uncomfortably in bed, his legs entangled in the covers, his mind held prisoner to unsolicited dreams. He knew he was dreaming, felt the perspiration on his forehead and back, sensed the toxic pull to the nether region. He was falling once again. Unable to swim against the debilitating tide, he succumbed, going under, taking one last breath, one last look into the light before giving-in, blacking-out.

"_I've seen the face of the enemy. They're not gods, and they're not indestructible. I've fought them, and I've killed many of them. And I've survived. Tell your governments that the only man who survived Z'ha'dum sends this message: We can end this. Not just for now, not just for the next 1,000 years, but forever!"_

"_I thought I'd never see you again."_

"_I'll never leave you, Delenn. Not if the whole universe stood between us."_

"_Captain, I just thought you should know. They've got your dad. We've got a couple of days before we can move. We should be able to break him out. Now, I've got some people who can help, but they want a meeting." _

"_It's a tranq. Don't fight it. Give it up or they'll hurt you!"_

"_Do you have any allergies or illnesses I should be aware of? Are you currently taking any medication? Have you had any trouble with your heart? When I ask a question, you will respond at once. You will not hesitate; you will not consider; you will not lie. Cooperation will be rewarded. Resistance will be punished."_

"_The Vorlons are going to hit Corians 6. We can't allow that. I had hoped to go against them at a time and place of our choosing . . . but with 6 billion lives at stake, we don't have that luxury anymore . . . so we're going to launch our counteroffensive."_

"_We will gather the entire fleet outside the orbit of Coriana 6. That is where we will draw the line against the Vorlons. We are going to force the issue to make sure the Shadows are there . . . when the Vorlons come out."_

"_If they want Armageddon, then let's give it to them!"_

"_The jaundice will pass in a couple of hours. I'm sorry I had to do that. Part of the process. We have to break you physically before we can get to your mind. My superiors monitor all the interrogation rooms randomly throughout the day. If they don't see some indication that you're willing to cooperate . . . well, I can't be held responsible for the consequences. The best thing for you to do is to cooperate."_

"_We're going into the heart of the fire, on one side the Vorlons . . . on the other, the Shadows, and us in the middle. Whether any of us will ever come back . . . I don't know. When I took command of Babylon 5, I found a note on my desk. Someone had left it there for me. It was a poem by Tennyson. I still remember the last part of it. Though we are not now of that strength. Which in old days moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are. One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate. But strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."_

"_This is your confession. Allow me to summarize. You plead guilty to charges of treason, mutiny, conspiracy to commit mutiny, sedition, terrorism—''_

"_That's a lie."_

"_Conspiracy to overthrow the government, illegal seizure of Earth property . . . assault on fellow officers, sabotage . . ."_

"_Now, just a minute." _

"_Willful destruction of public property . . . disobeying direct orders of superior officers . . . and the murder of 547 officers and crew on board the EAS Roanoke."_

"_I won't sign it!"_

"_You will sign it! You will sign it and read it aloud in full view of the public . . . so they'll know that we haven't forged your image or the signature. You will name your accomplices. You will apologize to the families and friends who died while fighting you. And in the end you will beg for mercy . . . on the grounds that you're under the influence of aliens . . . who are trying to subvert the government and undermine the authority of the president."_

"_I demand to see an attorney! I demand the presence of a full military tribunal. You have no right—''_

"_No, you have no rights!"_

"_Look at it. Thousands of ships. Over two dozen races working together for the very first time. You put together a hell of a team, Delenn, you should be proud. Win or lose, we'll go down fighting."_

"_Order versus chaos . . . choose one."_

"_What if we reject the idea that we must decide which of you is right? What if we simply walk away?"_

"_You cannot do that. There is only chaos and evolution." _

"_There is only order and obedience. You will do as you are told."_

"_You will walk through that door when you confess and not one second before. That piece of paper and a few words is all that's standing between you and that door. Don't you see how foolish this is? I'm not keeping you here. They're not keeping you here. You're keeping you here. Are you suicidal or simply self-destructive . . . preferring to let us to do the work for you? Don't you want to leave? Don't you want to be free?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Then sign it and speak. That's all. Then you can go. They don't want you dead. They want you as a symbol, not as a martyr. As a warning to others."_

"_Then you'll kill me."_

"_No. Absolutely not. They'll come for you eventually. But they'll wait . . . until you've been forgotten. Until your fate no longer means anything to anyone. They'll come in the night. It'll be very quick. But until that time . . . you will have your freedom. Sign and speak and you can leave here. It's really that simple." _

"_The Vorlons ask only one question over and over: Who are you? You, for you the question is: What do you want? I have never heard you answer that question. Who are you? What do you want?"_

"_You don't know, do you? You've been fighting each other so long, you've forgotten. You've lost your way. So how can you guide us? How can we learn who we are and what we want if you don't even know it anymore?"_

"_It doesn't matter which side wins this today. A thousand years from now, it'll start all over again. You're trapped in this cycle as much as we are. But we can't afford it anymore. We don't need it. We don't need you. We've learned how to stand on our own. We'll make mistakes, but they'll be our mistakes, not yours." _

"_Your secret is out. All these other races know you for who you are. So, what now? "_

"_We refuse to take sides in this anymore. And we refuse to let you turn us against one another! We know who we are now. We can find our own way between order and chaos. It's over because we've decided it's over. Now get the hell out of our galaxy. The both of you!"_

"_I know you can do it. I know you want to do it. Well?"_

"_No. You know . . . it's funny. I was thinking about what you said. The preeminent truth of our age . . . is that you cannot fight the system. But if, as you say, the truth is fluid . . . that the truth is subjective . . . then maybe you can fight the system. As long as just one person refuses to be broken . . . refuses to bow down."_

"_But can you win?"_

"_Every time I say no." _

**Part 3**

John's eyes gradually slide open, the darkness of his bedroom not as bleak as where he'd been, where his spirit traveled many nights. But the nightmares were getting better. At least he no longer woke screaming, drenched in sweat and tears. And then there was . . .

He sat up in bed, throwing the comforter from his body, and standing. There were sounds coming from the outer room. John made his way towards the door, listening as the woman's voice repeated a broadcast he'd heard too many times to count.

"Good evening. We begin our broadcast today with a special report . . . providing continuing coverage on the unfolding Babylon 5 story. President Susanna Luchenko met today with representatives of the newly formed Interstellar Alliance. In a historic move, Earth has agreed to join forces with the new Alliance. In the same press conference . . . the newly elected president of the Interstellar Alliance, John Sheridan had this surprising revelation: 'Now, in order to join the Alliance . . . the rights of the colony world must be respected. If the majority of their population votes for independence, they must be freed. Later this afternoon, President Luchenko will sign an executive order . . . declaring Mars a free and independent world.

After the press conference in Earth Dome this morning . . . Sheridan and Delenn left for Babylon 5. It's rumored that they were married in a private ceremony . . . aboard one of the White Star ships. Sources tell ISN, they will head up the newly formed Alliance from Babylon 5 . . . until more permanent facilities can be located in Tuzanor . . . on the Minbari Homeworld—''

"Off," John said. He fully entered the living area, his eyes scanning the room, and finding her. "How can you watch that? It's been playing consistently for the last two weeks—in whole or in part."

"It has always amazed me how Humans feel a need to publicize every aspect of one's life. Is there nothing left to the realm of privacy on Earth or is everything so openly dissected, judged, ridiculed, or praised?"

Like so many times in the past, John didn't know whether Delenn was joking or making a serious cultural analysis. He decided it was too late at night to ponder the inner workings of his wife's mind, so he simply shrugged.

"I thought you performed the last forgiveness prayer three weeks ago, Delenn," he said instead, taking in the all-too familiar white, black, and gray candles beside her prayer rug.

"I did," she said, standing, gathering the items off of the floor. "That doesn't mean I still don't feel a need to revisit them every so often. I suppose I always will."

John wondered how long Delenn would carry the guilt of continuing with the Minbari mating ritual after Anna's death. As far as Earthgov, Anna's parents, and everyone except for Marcus, Lennier, Susan, and Michael, no one knew of her return. Everyone thought she'd perished with the others on the _Icarus_.

"You've paid your penance, Delenn. For the last year, you've done everything your caste demanded of you. Between the civil war on Minbar and the battle for Earth, we spent most of the year apart. A year is what they required, and we gave it to them."

And it had been one hell of a year. John was thankful the Minbari used the Earth calendar instead of their own or he and Delenn would still be in a state of limbo.

"I know, John." She approached, her black, silk nightgown caressing her slender form in the most enticing way. "The fact that Anna died on Z'ha'dum and never made it to Earth to challenge the death declaration and reclaim her identity is . . ." She visibly struggled for the right word. "Splitting hairs," she finally managed.

It _was_ splitting hairs but John would take it. For once, he appreciated Minbari logic and their precise way of conceptualizing facts. Legally, if not technically, Anna was dead when Delenn married him. And since she was never able to change that fact through a court of law, the marriage between himself and Delenn stood. Meaning, Delenn could proceed with the last mating ritual with the acceptance of her caste and clan. But not without a year of penance for the very blurry line they were willing to draw.

And that was the cross they both had to bear. And why she still felt a need to drag herself from their bed in the middle of the night, and pray for forgiveness. But forgiveness wasn't to be found in the light of a candle flame. As long as they found happiness together, a small part of her would always feel guilty about Anna—about her horrible fate. But John knew Delenn would never admit that in her darkest, most selfish moments, she wished Anna had never returned, that death had truly claimed her five years ago. That is what the year of penance was truly about, nothing more, nothing less.

He offered his hand and she took it. John led her back to their bedroom and settled them both under the covers. He supposed he should harbor as much guilt about Anna as Delenn. After all, she had been his wife. He'd loved her and mourned her death for many years. And perhaps that was the true reason. He had already mourned her, come to terms with her absence in his life, his heart. And he grieved for her now, but the pain wasn't nearly as strong as it once had been.

And what he'd come to realize and eventually accept, was that his future with Delenn was predicated on Anna's death. It was a harsh, bitter pill to swallow, but it was the truth. Her death, his death, gave him this life, this present, and a future with this woman. And for that, he wouldn't feel guilty.

John kissed her cheek and then her lips, pulling Delenn into a protective embrace. "What doesn't kill us; makes us stronger, honey. We're stronger for all we've been through. We now know no one, and nothing can come between us. Not even death."

"I know, John." She touched his cheek, her hand soft and tender, eyes as lovely as he'd ever seen them. "Twenty years will never be enough, but I am grateful for the time we've been given. It's more and less than what I thought we would have."

"You're more than I thought I deserved." She blushed and John knew he would spend the next twenty years doing all within his power to make her happy. By making her happy, by enjoying and appreciating life, he would also be honoring Anna's memory. She wanted him to move on, to find joy with Delenn.

"Have I told you today how much I love you?" he asked, his lips grazing hers.

She nodded. "Yes . . . but you may continue to repeat it for as long as you like."

"Oh, I plan to. Every day . . . that I can."

**Author's Note:** Thank you very much for reading Between Two Wives and a Hard Place. I had no idea that my little idea would take ten chapters to finish, so I truly appreciate the time you invested in the story. In addition, I want to thank those who reviewed along the way. Such support is always gratifying.


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